


Follow You Down

by MonochromeTurtle (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Abusive!Zachariah, Anna - Freeform, Bad Thoughts, Big Brother Gabriel, Big Brother Lucifer, Big Brother Michael, Big Sister Anna, Castiel's POV, Castiel-centric, Dean Winchester - Freeform, Gabe - Freeform, Gabriel - Freeform, Lucifer - Freeform, M/M, Mental Abuse, Michael - Freeform, Michael Being A Dick, Physical Abuse, Poor Cassie Poo, Sam Winchester - Freeform, Suicidal Attempts, Suicidal Thoughts, Trigger Warnings, Uncle Zachariah, Zachariah Being a Dick, anael - Freeform, blind!cas, discontinued, no bueno, zachariah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-02-21 12:21:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 80,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2468117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/MonochromeTurtle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>::DISCONTINUED:: <br/>You can still read and enjoy if you'd like, but please be aware that it was discontinued and I am SOOO sorry for that. It's been over a year since I wrote this and since I was interested in this fandom!! </p><p>This story is good for some angst and yeah that's pretty much it. Hope those who are brave enjoy the story and sorry once again, love you all!!!</p><p>Castiel had been blind for as long as he could remember. He struggles with the difficulties of his drama-induced and dangerous family, until he finally moves out on his own, and leave them. He leans that dreams of freedom are a lot more difficult to achieve when you are blind, and trapped. Castiel escapes from his stern uncle and manipulative aunt, and seeks out the only person he knows he can trust, his brother Gabriel. Unfortunately, he doesn't find him in the way he wanted, and is tricked. They live together and Castiel is greeted by new people quickly, and one man in particular is catching his attention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Step

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah. So I have had this in my documents forever, and I have a plot for it and everything, I just haven't been very good at actually writing it. But I found this and decided I would give it a try and maybe feedback would keep me going. So far, I have written first chapter and I am toward the end in the second one. I hope you guys like this. Also no need to be scared of the tags, I don't plan on emphasizing the abuse by Zachariah at all, like I have done for past fics. If I ever do, I will warn you guys. :) Enjoy! Please give me feedback whether you like it or not, it really helps!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel is a young boy, seven years old. He struggles through discovering himself and the world around him as a blind child. He only has one friend at school. While Castiel is in first grade, his father is suddenly out of the picture. So his Uncle Zachariah takes his place. His oldest brothers, Michael and Lucifer constantly fight, but he is luckily protected by big brother Gabriel and big sister Anna.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Physical and mental abuse.

The little boy trembled as he took unsteady steps forward, feeling out with only his hands. His foot hit the edge of, well something, and he fell forward. Hands swarmed around his body as he lied on the ground in shock, needy hands grabbing him. Pitch darkness devoured him eagerly, the hungry jaws brutally biting at him as savage hands clung to him, dragging him under. He gasped for air that never comes, as he is pulled under the greedy hands that grasp at his flailing limbs. Terrified and lost in a sea of nothingness. Nails claw sharply at his throat and neck, bones jab violently into his sides. . . He trembles with fear as he feels the greedy things tug at him, swarming his body in a manifest.

Then one hand brings him out from the rest, tugging him back up to his feet with a murmur of, “Dammit Cassie.” He feels about as solid and as steady as a boat in a storm on his own two legs again, though he preferred to be on the so called boat rather than uselessly flailing on his own in the ocean. His knees feel wobbly as he blindly grasped onto fabric.

As he recollected his breath from the terror of falling, Castiel is led with an arm around his shoulders, his clumsy feet venturing from smooth wood and stumbling into plush carpet. He absently notes as he calms down that he must be in the living room now. He realizes that the person holding onto both his shoulders is easing him down to sit carefully. Sitting is scary when the world is pitch black. However Castiel would take sitting down over falling any day. When his bottom hits the cushion, and there is a small creaking of old wood when they sit, he knows they have both sat down on the couch.

He sucks in deep breaths as the panic and adrenaline subsides, letting them out slowly. He humbly turns his head to where he assumes his rescuer is sitting beside him. The gentle hold on his shoulders suggest that it could not possibly be his father, Michael or Lucifer. However, the sharp smell of cologne and cotton candy suggest that it could not be Anna. That left Gabriel. Raising his hand to what he assumed was his brother's face, Castiel feels his face lightly. It took a few brief moments to feel down the other person's round, squishy face and light subtle to figure out it was Gabriel. For a confirmation, he brushed his fingers over Gabriel's rather large nose.

“Thank you Gabriel.” Castiel speaks lightly, bowing his head a little bit, embarrassed to have fallen down again. At this rate, he would become solely dependent on his family to do anything.

He could feel the drift of air beside him, and Castiel figures that Gabriel is shrugging, slightly leaning back against the couch. “No problem.” His brother says easily, adding in, “You should be careful though. Gave me a hell of a scare. You're lucky I was here. Dad's locked away in his study, Michael and Lucifer are having at it upstairs, and I told Anna to go to her friends. None of us should be exposed to that kind of fighting.” Gabriel says with a bitter bite at the end.

Rigidly, Castiel nods. He stiffly says in that formal way of speaking he must have adapted from his father and Michael when he was not aware, “I apologize for being a burden Gabriel.” It sounds pathetic to his own ears.

Gabriel must have thought so too. He listens as Gabriel sighs loudly, hearing as his head hits the back of the cushion on the couch. Most likely, in frustration. “It's not that Cassie. You just gotta be more careful alright? I'm not upset, just worried. I mean one of these days you're going to be in one of those situations and well, Anna or I might not be here. Besides, you're just a kid.”

Gabriel is a full ten years older than Castiel. While Castiel is merely seven years old, his older brother is seventeen years old. From Castiel's perspective, Gabriel might as well be a grown adult compared to him.

Castiel nods in understanding, finding movements and gestures more suitable than words. He hears Gabriel sit up, the rustling of fabric on the couch a familiar one. Castiel jumps a little bit when he feels Gabriel's strong hand slap onto his right shoulder. “Seriously though, you alright Cassie?”

“Yes, Gabriel, I am fine. I appreciate your concern. I just had a fright.” Castiel tightly said, his head still turned to where he imagined Gabriel would be.

Gabriel seemed to be thinking about something, as he was not saying anything aloud and he certainly wasn't moving around. Slowly, Castiel realized that Gabriel must be staring at him. Agitated, Castiel asked with a grimace, “What is it Gabriel?”

Gabriel shifted slightly from beside him, and he muttered, “It's nothing Cas. Just- Be careful for now on alright?”

Confused that Gabriel was now repeating himself, Castiel scrunched his brows together and said steadily, “I know. You have said that twice up to this point.”

He heard Gabriel chuckle, and Castiel felt him standing up. The sinking in the couch lifting as Gabriel stood. He knew that Gabriel was holding his hand out for him, offering it to him. He wondered if he should take it.

If he did, he would consider himself a weak little kid, and as much as Gabriel and Anna denied that they did not think so, he still worried about it. He wanted to prove himself strong. However, if he didn't, then he might hurt himself again and panic. After all, he was in a new and unfamiliar house, and he didn't want to risk tripping over something again.

Despite the multiple tours that Gabriel and Anna had given to him of the new house, it would take him some time to get used to the new layout when he couldn't see where he was walking.

Not wanting to risk a fall like that again, Castiel took Gabriel's hand, right where he would expect it to be, and unsteadily stood up on his wobbling feet. Gabriel took it slow at first, leading Castiel upstairs with an easy pace for Castiel's little legs to keep up with without tripping over the rug.

The two finally made it up the stairs without any incidents. Castiel followed his older brother as they turn to the left, down the hall. Castiel could hear Gabriel open the door with a click of the lock, smoothly pushing the door wide open. The little boy waits as his older brother seems to be looking around the room. He's slowly pulled forward again, his small hand clasped by a much larger and rougher hand. He listens as springs creak and boards groan, as Gabriel sits down on the edge of the bed. His older brother swoops him onto his lap, and Castiel can't help the yelp and then giggle he lets out as he is safely brought into his big brother's lap.

Gabriel runs his hand through Castiel's hair, smoothing it back with affection in his touches. The fondness in the action made Castiel end up nuzzling against Gabriel, comfortably curling up on his lap like a kitten. It was unusual when he was treated so nicely by Gabriel without any teasing at all. His father and oldest brothers were never this kind to him, and although Anna adored him and cooed at him at any chance she had, it still wasn't quite enough for the seven year old boy.

When he had been just a small baby, there had been difficulty in his birth. It caused his mother to die minutes before he was born. The birth had been difficult for Castiel as well. It was then that he had lost his vision. He had seen the world for a few mere days before the gift was stolen from him. Not to mention that he'd never had the attention and love from a mother, and his father certainly did not work to give it to him.

Soon enough, with safety and warmth anchoring him in the form of his older brother, Castiel started to doze off in his lap as his fair was stroked back warmly. His big brother, a sliver of light in a world he could not ever possibly hope to understand. To ever see. To imagine.

Just as he was letting sleep drowning out all noise, Castiel could heard his brother mutter softly, brushing his fingers through Castiel's hair still, “I'm sorry bro. This isn't what I wanted for you. Any of us.” At only seven years old, Castiel could not understand what Gabriel had meant when he said that.

It was only a few months later when their father left them. Michael was twenty years old, Lucifer was nineteen. They fought often and harshly, most fights just yelling matches about who was better and more favored by their father. Slowly, they got more and more violent. Gabriel was seventeen, Anna ten. Castiel was the youngest, still seven years old.

After their father left the five children alone for good, their _wonderful_ Uncle Zachariah decided to take in the children under his wing. Anna told him to be grateful, Gabriel bitterly spat out the same words like acid. Castiel decided he hated Zachariah.

The first grade was even worse than kindergarten. Castiel had a friend who led him to his class and to recess. His name was Samandriel. He was nice, and Castiel's first friend. Kids constantly asked him questions about his _condition_. He hated it. Samandriel never asked questions though. Instead he simply spoke to Castiel like all the other kids talked to each other.

March came around. Samandriel one day told him, his voice soft and light, his face plump and tiny, as Castiel traced his fingers over it out of habit, “March means it's marble month.”

Castiel frowned, moving his hands away from Samandriel to allow his friend to speak without his hand in the way. Nervously he wrung his hands together. He finally asked, hesitantly, “What's that?”

He heard Samandriel laugh brightly, it was like a light breeze on a hot day, easing Castiel immediately. “In March, the kids get a bunch of marbles and we play games with them. It's fun. I'll bring some tomorrow! We can play together Castiel.” Samandriel said enthusiastically.

Again, Castiel frowned, and Samandriel must have seen it because he asked with concerned warmth lacing his voice, “What's wrong?”

Castiel asked with a sigh, “Will I . . . Will I be able to play? Does it require-” He gulped down his nervousness, “Does it require necessities I am not capable of performing?”

Samandriel had already gotten used to the little boy's unusually escalated vocabulary, so he didn't ponder on it. Castiel could tell that his friend hadn't even thought about that. He must not have, because he suddenly got very quiet. Castiel raised his hand cautiously, moving it to meet Samandriel's cheek, lightly brushing the hot skin with his touch. Castiel knew that he must be flaming with embarrassment since he had not thought of that.

Gently, Castiel attempted to ease into a smile. He tried to look like he was looking at Samandriel, though something told him he was probably not looking quite at the boy. “It is fine Samandriel. I appreciate the thought. You should play marbles with our peers. I am sure they will enjoy playing with you.”

Castiel heard a ruffle beside him, Samandriel must have made a movement. After a moment he heard the other boy speak quietly, “I don't want to play with the other kids Castiel. I want to play with you.”

“Why?” He asked, deep confusion settling in.

“Because Castiel. You're my friend. The other kids aren't. If I left, then I would be leaving you all alone. I don't want to do that.” Samandriel confided to Castiel, suddenly touching the boy's shoulder unexpectedly, causing the other to flinch at the touch. “Sorry!” He said in a squeaking voice.

“It is fine Samandriel. I just was not expecting you to touch me.” Castiel admitted quietly, his head bowed down in shame of frightening his friend. He tried to piece together what Samandriel had meant before, and told him, “If you really want play marbles, I am fine being left alone. I am sure it is a fun game and I would not want you to miss out on it on my behalf.”

He heard Samandriel give a frustrated sigh, and Castiel felt shame roll over in his stomach. “It's not like that Castiel.” He said, “I just want to stick by you. You're my best friend. Well, I mean, my only friend.”

The statement shocked Castiel, and he turned to his friend in confusion. Of course, Samandriel was his only friend as well as his best, however he hadn't thought for a second that this might be true for both of them. He wished with all his heart that he could see his friend, to see how he looked, to read his expressions and emotions. He couldn't, though. He would never be able to.

“Let's play another game.” Samandriel suggested after a few moments. Castiel could hear the smile in his voice, “Let's play Marco Polo.” He said brightly.

Castiel felt himself smile brightly at the idea. It was genius really. Of course it was normally a game to be played in a swimming pool or in a lake, but who would waste a perfectly good opportunity to play it on land if it meant there could be no cheating from one of the participants. “I'd love to play that game.” He replied with his smile still intact.

It was the end of the first grade when Uncle Zachariah announced to the family that they were to move that summer. Castiel felt his heart shatter into pieces at the news. He'd be leaving his school, his wonderful teacher, Mrs. Moseley who had taught him braille, his best friend Samandriel. Technically his only friend, but that was beside the point. When at last Castiel had felt like he was comfortable and safe, he would be leaving again.

Castiel held onto Samandriel's arm on the last day of school. His right arm was looped with Samandriel's left, his other hand holding out a small cane in front of him. He might as well be clinging onto the boy's arm as they walked across the bumpy field of the school yard.

Children's laughter and squeals of joy floated across the field from the playground. The slap of a rubber ball upon the asphalt ground echoed through the air. Kids screaming and shouting. Whistles blew fiercely as yard duties fought for control of the rambunctious children on the last day of school. Long spring days filled with laughter and Marco Polo were already so far away, despite the fact that Samandriel and Castiel had just played the other day.

When they were far enough out, Castiel tugged Samandriel onto the ground with him. They sat with a small thud into the slightly damp grass. Castiel could feel Samandriel's worried eyes drone into him. He sighed as he ran his fingers through the slick blades of grass, thinking to himself that Anna had told him that they were _green_. He let in a deep breath and inhaled the sweet scent of the early morning.

Birds chirped and sang their songs in harmony, beautifully annoying. A light drift washed over the boys' bodies, and Castiel let the late spring sensations sink deep into his bones. People told him that spring was a beautiful season. He told them he didn't need to see to know that much.

A fond voice jerked Castiel out of his thoughts, and back into reality. Soft and feather-light. A calling of his name. “Castiel?” It echoed. Castiel turned to the source of the sound. Samandriel, of course.

He sighed again. A light whisper of a breath passing his lips. It was bothersome to admit that he did so much of it as of late. In a small voice, he informed Samandriel, “My uncle says we are moving this summer. I won't be here next year.” _I may never see you again._

He heard a muffled sound come from his friend. Castiel knew that Samandriel must be unsuccessfully hiding his whimpers behind his hands. Finally the boy pleaded in a hushed voice, “Please don't leave Castiel. You're the only friend I've got. The best.”

Castiel frowned at the improper grammar, though said nothing of it. He wove his fingers through the long blades of the grass, twisting it tightly between his fingers. “I am sorry Samandriel. I must go.”

He heard Samandriel whimper again before warmth engulfed him. It was different than the heating rays from the sun. It was warm yes, but this was solid, this was soft and rock-stone at the same time it was like liquid seeping through. Castiel sat stiffly as bony arms clung around his shoulders. The sudden hug broke off the pleasing rays of the sun that filtered down onto him, yet the replacement was nothing he was to complain of.

Slowly, in an alien way, he raised his own small hands to the boy's back, and lightly patted him between the shoulder blades. He remembered when he was frightened that Gabriel and Anna would make hushing sounds. Whispers of breath lightly weaving through his hair. So he did the same now as he felt Samandriel shudder wrecking sobs onto his shoulder.

Castiel waited until his friend cried it all out, resulting in the shoulder of his shirt being soaked through with the salty tears. When Samandriel moved away, Castiel reached forward, remembering a gesture from a distant time, when he had been tiny. He felt Samandriel's face with his fingers, and danced around his face until he felt the boy's closed eyes, brushing his fingers underneath them. He smoothed away the warm tears from underneath his eyes softly, hoping that the gesture Anna or Gabriel, once even his father, had done for him when he had been very young had the same affect for Samandriel. It did.

With shuddering breaths, and sniffles from his runny nose, Samandriel shakily said, “I'll miss you Castiel. Do you promise to keep in touch with me? Call me, it's easy to do. I'll give you my number. My mom had me write it down until I knew it by heart.”

Castiel nodded, a smile slipping onto his face. “I wish I knew my number, but I never needed to memorize it.” He admitted. His father hadn't cared one way or another when he had been around, and his Uncle Zachariah certainly didn't.

He felt his friend smile softly, hugging Castiel again in that strange way he did. He hugged back immediately this time, letting his hands crawl around his friend's back. This time he didn't cry.

His Uncle Zachariah was to pick him up from school that day. Castiel waited at the curb of the school with his special teacher and helper, Mrs. Moseley, as they waited for him to drive up. Castiel grips onto the small slip of paper in his hand. Mrs. Moseley informed him that Samandriel had sloppily scrawled out his number on it, and she had rewritten it neatly underneath it so that his siblings could call the number for him.

Mrs. Moseley was kind, and she always seemed to know what someone was thinking. Which was both a blessing and a cursing for young Castiel. He had known her since kindergarten, and had felt an immediate attaching as soon as they had met. She was a good person, though proved to be strong when she felt disrespect was coming from Castiel. Which happened when he was moody.

She was soft-spoken with a voice that made Castiel think of his mother. He never knew her, but if he had heard her voice, he was certain it would have been a silky voice such as Mrs. Moseley's. Over the past few years he'd grown close to her, and was upset he'd have to leave her now.

Of course, Mrs. Moseley must have sensed what was going on in his head somehow, as she said to him, “Oh don't you worry hon. I put my number on that paper too. You can call me anytime you want Castiel. You know that.”

Castiel let the warmth of her words spill over him, and he let a fond smile appear on his face as he realized what she had said. “Thank you Mrs. Moseley.” He said quietly. He listened as the last of the children left the school, squealing and yelping with joy to be leaving. Most of them picked up by their parents, others running home. He had given Samandriel a hug before he had rushed to his own mother's car, before she could holler at him across the schoolyard. He stood with his cane pulled at his side now, with Mrs. Moseley's hand on his shoulder, waiting for his uncle to pick him up.

He heard the familiar whine of his uncle's nice, new car driving up to his spot. Quickly, Castiel turned to Mrs. Moseley, and gave her a tight squeeze around her waist with his scrawny arms, before turning away to face the car. “Goodbye Mrs. Moseley.” He said lightly, “Thank you for everything.”

He listened as she said, “Oh Castiel. Bye sweetie. Keep safe and stay the way you are.” He nodded as he climbed into car with the woman's help. He sat stiffly beside his uncle as the door shut, and the car lurched forward.

His uncle was quiet. Much too quiet for Castiel's liking. For a kid that relied solely on sound and touch, he was uncomfortable with his Uncle Zachariah since he provided neither unless it was harshly. He would either be completely quiet or yell harshly at Castiel. He would never touch Castiel, or he would slap him when he was angry. He didn't know what to expect now. Castiel wasn't sure if he was going to act like he did not exist right now, or if he would get into an angry fit. He sincerely hoped it was not the latter.

It was.

The car stopped, however Castiel knew they were not home. The drive had been too short. He faced what he hoped was his uncle, with what he hoped was a questioning look. It must not have been, because he was suddenly and sharply smacked across the face. Castiel felt hot tears form in his eyes.

“Don't look at me like that Castiel. You know that we must move. I will not have you burden us if you are unwilling to leave.” His uncle sneered at him angrily, roughly grabbing Castiel by the shoulder with his large hand, twisting him around until Castiel was fully facing him.

“I'm sorry.” He whimpered pathetically. Castiel remembered that's what he was. Pathetic. Only at seven years old, he knew that he was pathetic. He was an embarrassment to the entire family. Their family was rich and well known, and then he was born and had ruined it all. He'd heard it so many times from his uncle, from Michael, that he believed it. Gabriel and Anna, even Lucifer sometimes, told him that it wasn't true.

He was holding on tightly to the piece of paper with both his hands. The piece of paper that reminded him that he had two people to speak to when things were too much. He could at least use the phone by himself. Though he would have to get Anna's help on the number written on the paper.

Castiel must have been holding on too tightly, because suddenly, his uncle snatched the paper away from him. Castiel made a sound of protest, lunging forward for the paper. Easily, his uncle shoved him back into his seat. Castiel didn't need to see the scowl on his uncle's face to know it was there.

“What is this Castiel?” Uncle Zachariah asked with amusement poured over his voice. Castiel cringed, murmuring a lame, “Nothing.” Before he was pulled forward by the collar of his shirt, too near to his uncle's face, as he spat at him, “Don't _lie_ to me Castiel!”

Castiel still felt the hot tears brimming his useless eyes as he said quietly, “They are my friends' numbers. I wish to speak with them after we move.” He hurriedly explained after he felt Uncle Zachariah tighten his grip on his shirt.

“I forbid you!” His uncle hissed out immediately.

“Why?” He asked with an ounce of anger. Anger that was knocked to the side as soon as he felt another slap across his face.

His uncle must be close to his face now. He could smell his foul breath, his stuck up after shave, and could feel the hot angry breaths and bits of spit fling onto his face as he spoke with a raised voice. “Because I command you to obey me, Castiel. And I say, you will not be speaking to _anyone_ whom you have had any interactions with here.”

“No! Uncle, please. I'll behave, just please let me speak to my friend. Samandriel will be upset if I do not call him-”

He heard paper tear. It was torn over and over again. Shredded into little pieces. His uncle blew them into his face and laughed with a roar as the pieces of paper fluttered lightly onto his face. He felt his heart sink and his eyes really became useless stupid things as tears filled them and ran down his face.

His uncle started the car again, as Castiel pathetically cried silent sobs. The next day they moved. They moved constantly after that. From one town to another. Castiel never grew used to any of the houses they moved into, he never got used to the people he interacted with.

It was a little lonely. Especially when years later, the only siblings who cared about him disappeared.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this fanfiction is from the song "Follow You Down" by Shinedown. The title of this chapter, is from the same song. 
> 
> The first braille in this fic is the chapter's title. Everything after that, splitting the text into sections, is just the title of the fanfiction. :)


	2. Inside Your Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fights between Lucifer and Micahel are worse than ever three years later. Anna and Gabriel do their best to protect each other and the youngest sibling. But how can one keep on living a life as restless as this? Constantly living in fear. Leaving was inevitable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Fighting and abandonment.
> 
> I plan on posting a new chapter every Thursday. Lucky timing, right? I know that last time I had posted it on Friday, but it was 12 AM and I hadn't really thought that it was Friday. I am pretty happy with this chapter, actually getting places woot!

Three years later, and Castiel was ten years old. He took his cane everywhere he went, and he used to beg his uncle for a guide dog. He learned not to ask anymore after the third time. He was locked away in his room without dinner after his uncle had yelled at him about being disrespectful.

It was the last night he'd “see” Gabriel for a long time. Until he disappeared.

Dinner was as tense as usual. Castiel sat at his usual spot between Anna and Gabriel. Michael and Lucifer sat on the other side of the table, and their Uncle Zachariah sat at the head of the table. Every night, Micheal and Lucifer start bickering. Tonight was not an expectation.

Castiel remembered specifically what they were eating for dinner. Salmon, mashed potatoes, and corn. Anna had cooked it up, she often did most of the cooking. With Zachariah constantly at work, trying to earn some new promotion, Micheal going to school and working, Lucifer too lazy to care, Gabriel only being able to cook sweets, and Castiel being, well first off blind, and too young, it was always left to Anna to cook most meals. She cooked well, and she enjoyed doing it, so nobody complained.

That night, Castiel quietly ate his food. Eating was not as hard as one might think it would be when blind. It was just a matter of knowing what food he was going to put into his mouth based on the texture, of knowing what food was where on the plate, and being careful to not stab himself with the fork. After years of practice, it came naturally to him.

Michael started talking about how school was going. It was tiresome to hear him talk about what he learned in his political classes, and to hear Zachariah praise him and talk about it with him. It was frightful to hear Lucifer put in his own input on everything, because that meant a fight was to start. Sometimes it was just yelling. Though recently, it got violent. The older they got, the worse it got.

That night, Michael announced he wanted to become a political figure, that he wanted to join the government.

“You should do it!” Castiel heard Zachariah exclaim, and he had to physically stop himself from cringing at how he had said it.

Lucifer snickered. Michael was in front of Castiel to his left, while Lucifer was in front of him to his right. He hated Lucifer, but he hated Michael more. If he was to be completely honest, he wanted to snicker alongside with Lucifer.

“Oh brother, you're ridiculous. What would you even do? You are pathetic, do you really think you'd be able to do something that people would be motivated by?”

Here it went again. Castiel could feel Zachariah glare at Lucifer as he went on about how much of a failure Michael would be. He could feel Gabriel tense beside him, as Anna slid a hand over his own under the table. The comfort was surprising, but needed.

Snickering and discussion soon turned into yelling. Yelling turned to speaking of their father. “The only reason father left, is because of _you!_ ” Michael yelled after Lucifer had said something or other that Castiel had learned to black out.

He jumped as he heard a dish shatter against the wall. He heard Lucifer walking behind him earlier, pacing angrily, while Michael was still in front of him. The glass dish had hit the wall in front of Castiel, meaning Lucifer had thrown it.

Castiel often wondered what exactly Zachariah was doing during these fights. He wondered vaguely if he looked amused or bored. It had to be either one or the other. He was certain his uncle would not leave while these fights went on, and he certainly never intervened. Castiel felt Anna wrap her arms around his shoulders, tugging him closer to her. He knew that if she had thought it was safe, she would've dragged him away from the scene, upstairs to his room. This fight was worse than the others he assumed.

Lucifer snarled out from behind Castiel, “Oh Michael, you always say that, and yet you make no sense. I was the only one who loved him the most!”

“Shut up Lucifer! You loved him but hated everything else. You are a nasty child with no respect for anything else. You're vermin!” Michael hissed, slamming his fist on the table. Glasses fell over, some simply breaking, others falling over, spilling whatever liquid that was in it onto the table.

Castiel cowered under Anna's wing as more yelling and screaming came. Suddenly, he felt Gabriel beside him stand up. For a moment, Castiel thought he was going to say something. He thought that Gabriel would scream something and gain control of the chaos, he thought that he would stop the wretched fighting.

He didn't. Instead, he stormed away from the table angrily, fuming quietly.

Castiel squeaked as another dish flew across the table. He felt Anna roughly stand up, dragging Castiel behind her as he stumbled. If Anna was older, he knew she would fight back. She had a heart of fire, raging and angry.

She led him upstairs carefully, cursing under her breath as the fight grew louder. Castiel wondered vaguely how it had even all happened. How it got so violent so quickly. He shuddered when he heard one of the brothers scream in a fit of rage, slamming the other against the wall. Again, he wondered what Zachariah was doing. He decided to not think about the evil uncle.

“Shh, Castiel, it's alright.” Anna was coaxing him. He was sitting on his bed now, knees pulled up under his chin. He realized that he must be crying, suddenly he felt the hot streams of tears that were running down along his face.

He sniffled a little bit as he muttered, “I'm sorry Anna. I didn't mean to cry.”

He felt his older sister envelope him in a warm hug, squeezing him tightly. She whispered against his ear, “Shut up Castiel. Don't you dare be sorry.” Anna moved away from Castiel now, holding both his shoulders with her hands, as she said softly, “We're going to leave here someday, I promise. I hate Uncle Zachariah. I hate Michael and Lucifer. I hate living here. And someday I am going to take you and we will get the hell out of here.”

Castiel nodded, thinking to himself that his sister was just mad, angry. Upset. He knew they were empty promises, though he didn't dare say anything of it. His sister was too determined for him to crush her dreams. He would never do such a horrible thing to someone who loved him so much. Someone who did not think him to be as pathetic as he thought himself to be.

The next day, Gabriel was gone. Castiel woke up to the sound of cleaning. He sat up in his bed, straining for his ears to hear better. He heard Anna humming and singing, and he figured that she must have volunteered to clean up the mess from last night's fight. Since she was humming, it would mean that Uncle Zachariah was at work. Michael would be taking his extracurricular activities at his college. Lucifer doing whatever shady things he did.

He didn't hear a peep from Gabriel's room, which was right beside his own. Normally, with the house so empty, Gabriel would be blasting music or playing his video games by now.

Carefully, Castiel tiptoed out of his room, feeling comfortable enough to trail his hands along the wall of the house to leave his cane behind. Castiel let his hands follow the wall until he found the first door to his the right of his own room. Lightly, he knocked on the door to Gabriel's room. The sharp smell of citrus and bleach traveled upstairs from the kitchen, meaning Anna planned on cleaning the kitchen very well. Castiel felt his stomach knot as he knocked again, louder this time.

“Gabriel?” Gabriel still didn't answer even as Castiel pounded on the door for a third time, more frightened now. Castiel fumbled for the doorknob, throwing open the door before thinking better of it. Clumsily, he staggered into the room. His bare feet ran over the thick and rough carpet, his hands flailed wildly around him as he blindly searched for something to latch onto as he fell.

The moment of falling felt like an eternity, but eventually Castiel grasped for something to hold onto. He clung to a wooden surface for dear life as he let stupid panic die out from inside him. His hands clung to the wood, what must have been Gabriel's dresser as his breathing became uneven. Gabriel wasn't here. Yeah, he might have gone out, but Castiel had a deep feeling in his gut that it was more than that. Thinly, he tried one more time, “Gabriel?”

Sliding down against the dresser, his back pressed again the drawers of the piece of furniture, Castiel drew his knees up under his chin. The knobs of the dresser harshly pressed into his back, though he couldn't bring himself to care. Nervously, he bit at his lip as he wrapped his arms around his legs. He didn't need to open the drawers to know there was nothing in them.

He sat there for a long time, though he wasn't sure just how long. He was snapped out of his numb, knowing trance when the sound of flip flops click up the stairs. He heard Anna calling out his name, in a worried questioning tone when she opened the door to his bedroom. Weakly he called out, “In here.” His voice wavered.

The sound of Anna's flip flops raced down the hall at the sound of his voice, and she threw open the door to Gabriel's room. He heard her laugh lightly in relief. “Oh good. Thought something happened for a second.” She admitted. He listened as his sister paused, felt her eyes trace his body suspiciously. “Is everything alright Castiel?” She asked at last.

Slowly, Castiel shook his head, caving in on himself even more so now than he had been before. He drew his knees closer to his body, tucked his chin over them, making himself smaller as he thought about the nasty, frightening thoughts that raced throughout his mind. In a small voice he said, “Gabriel's gone.”

“Oh Castiel.” Anna said sympathetically, walking up to Castiel and kneeling beside him now. He felt as her arms snaked around his body and tugged him into a warm embrace. “I'm sure he just went out Cassie. It's alright he'll be back.”

Again, Castiel shook his head, now whispering, “Look at the floor Anna, it's clean. When was the last time Gabriel cleaned his floors? Look in the drawers. The closet. Everything. . .”

He could feel the light drift beside him as Anna shook her head again, laughing nervously now, “So what? Castiel, he cleaned up. That's an improvement.”

“Look in the drawers and the closet. Look under his bed.” He snapped at her suddenly, bitter twinge growling in his voice. He felt Anna back away from him, staring at him, wondering if he'd gone mad.

But this was Anna. So she obliged, standing up. She scooted Castiel away from the dresser, and searched the drawers. He heard a small gasp come from her. She rushed to open the door to the closet, and got onto her hands and knees to peer underneath the bed. Castiel listened to her worrying breaths catch up with her as she came back to him. She was facing him, sitting across from him now.

“Castiel . . . I am sure that it's not what it looks like.” She said timidly.

“Why wouldn't it be though Anna? Gabriel is twenty years old, he could leave anytime he wanted to. With all the fighting and treatment from Zachariah, wouldn't you leave if you could?”

Anna silenced at that. He could hear her shift lightly, could even hear her hair brush against her clothing. After a few long moments of quiet, she whispered, “I'm sure it's not that. Can't be. He'll be back.”

He never came back.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from "Through Glass" by Stone Sour.


	3. Waste Another Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Anna go to a wedding! Well, the wedding is between two horribly wretched people. Anna tells Castiel of her plan to escape this terrible life on the night of the newlywed couple's honeymoon. But things don't go as planned. . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't bite you guys. Well, can't promise but ya know. Sorry, it's tempting to post everything I have at once but if I do that then I would stress myself out. I think this is all I have so far, so I will have to write some more on this three day weekend. Please comment or kudo.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: Anxiety attacks, panic attacks, fighting, physical fighting, and abandonment.

Castiel was dressed in a stiff suit. The thick cloth was soft and heavy, he could hear his sister huff and shuffle in front of him as she sorted through fabrics. She ooh'ed and ahh'ed, grunted and made disapproving sounds as she searched through the articles of clothing. At last he felt Anna tug on the color of his white button up shirt, and then felt her loop a piece of silky fabric around the back of his neck. He didn't mean to flinch.

“Oh chill Cas. Just a tie.” Anna said, half teasing and half concerned. “Here I'll tie it for you now, but I'm going to teach you how to do this later so you can do it yourself.”

Castiel hinted at giving her a smile, sitting still as she quickly proceeded to tie the tie around his neck. That's what he had always loved about Anna, she wanted Cas to be independent. She taught him everything she knew, would look up ways to make daily tasks easier when you were blind. All in all, she gave him a taste of freedom.

It had been four years since Gabriel's disappearance. He hadn't been found, however it wasn't as if Zachariah had searched very hard either, since Gabriel was an adult, he must have figured he would be fine on his own. Anna and Castiel still worried.

Although, that wasn't on Castiel's mind right now, as Anna finished tying his tie with a satisfied humph. What was on his mind was the terrifying fact that he was dressing up in a tuxedo for his uncle's wedding. With no other than the rich and almighty, Naomi Milton, a rich business woman whom Castiel knew very little of. From the few interactions he had had with her, he didn't like her.

Anna especially didn't like her. While Castiel was fourteen years old, his sister was three years older, at an age where she like other girls her age got rebellious and upset. She already hated Zachariah, disliked Michael and Lucifer, though she seemed to despise Naomi. Castiel couldn't blame her, the woman acted all too calm yet reeked of the sterilized cleanliness of a hospital.

“There you go kiddo.” Anna said with a sigh, moving away from Castiel. He stood up from his bed he was sitting on, shuffling nervously in place as he heard the crinkling of plastic from Anna. She had gave him an over detailed (and honestly useless to him since he couldn't even imagine it, though he would never tell her that) description of her dress.

She told him that it was light pink, with shiny, clear fabric layered over the pink fabric. Anna informed him that the pink went well with her recently dyed red hair, and with her rather pale skin. Castiel had nodded through the lengthy description with no understanding whatsoever.

“Thank you Anna.” He said at last, letting out a shaky breath.

He could hear heels scrape against the wooden floor as she walked over, pulling Castiel into a fluid hug, rubbing the tense muscles in his back as she said quietly, “Don't worry. This will be over soon. I wish they hadn't chosen me as one of their bridesmaids, so I could sit with you. But you can handle yourself, I know you can.”

Castiel nodded into her embrace, “I know. I am just overwhelmed by crowds, and parties especially. They invited so many people.” Castiel took a deep breath, breathing in the smell of Anna's light perfume of roses, holding it in his memory. “And Anna, I know you will do amazing as a bridesmaid. Who are you going up with?”

Anna let go of him, leaning back with a laugh, “Oh that. I was paired up with Balthazar I guess. He's quite the flirt. Damn handsome too.”

“I bet he is.” Castiel said with a fond smile. He felt himself relax slightly, even as Anna left him to check that she had everything she needed. He sank back onto his bed, lying down on his back as he thought.

He could hear Anna's dress as she walked around, the plastic sheets of her dress were fairly loud, and her heels weren't helping with the noise either. Castiel smiled to himself as he heard his sister twirl around, and wondered if she was looking at herself in the mirror as she did it. He was sure she was beautiful, and wished that he could see her to tell her that he thought so.

“Too bad he's our cousin.” Anna muttered, sounding a bit disappointed, and Castiel laughed at the comment. “Hey, shut up Cassie. I know the difference between just looking and not touching.”

Castiel sat up now, chuckling at how defensive Anna felt she had to be. “Of course, I know you do.” He sarcastically teased.

He was surprised when he felt Anna leap onto the bed beside him, and had honestly gotten a fright from the sudden movement. His racing heart calmed after a minute, though it was not long before he could feel Anna start to tickle him. Castiel started to get into a laughing fit, flailing his arms in attempt to grab his sister and tickle her back. It was no use, so he eventually gave in and begged for mercy.

Still laughing, he wheezed out, “You brat. What was that for?”

“You had a stick up your ass.” Anna explained casually, as if that was enough of an acceptable answer to get her off the hook. “Besides, I figured you need to lighten up. It's nice to see you laugh Castiel, I hope you can do it more often.”

Castiel scowled at her, or at least he hoped it was directly at her. He eased up after a few moments of thinking her words over, “I suppose I can try to smile and laugh more.” He admitted, “It's just a bit difficult to do so considering our circumstances.”

He wasn't happy, Anna must have known this. He tried to be, but that proved to be a hard task since he was always home nowadays. A few years ago, he had been pulled out of school since his uncle found that it took too much time to drive him there and back, and since he thought that Castiel was just too much of a burden to put into school. Since the fourth grade now he has had a personal tutor teach him, and though he liked her, he selfishly wished that he could go to school. He couldn't stand being home, and reveled those few times that he could get out of the house.

“I know,” Anna murmured softly, dragging Castiel closer to her side, then resting her head on his shoulder, “We'll get through it though. Hey, can I let you in on a little secret?”

Castiel was undoubtedly confused, even a little flustered, “Of course Anna. What is it?”

He began to grow more worried by the second as Anna took her time to talk to him about her little _secret_. “Well, you know how when we were kids and I always said that I'd get us out of here?” Castiel nodded, apprehension and excitement whirling deep in the pit of his stomach, “Well, I still want to. And I'm gonna get us out of here. I'm seventeen years old goddammit, I'm not doing this any more. I am going to take you out of here. Why do you think I have been working so hard the last few summers? Last year I even worked on school days. It's because I know that we both can't stay here any longer than we have already.” Anna was speaking very passionately, her voice was determined and he imagined her voice to be lava; hot, flowing and destructive.

It took him a minute to process all of this, and when he finally did, his voice came out in less than a breath, “You really mean it? We're leaving? Do you have enough money? Or an idea as to where we will be going?”

He could feel Anna enthusiastically nod, felt her hair itch against his face as she did so, “Yes Castiel, that's what I am telling you. I wanna go somewhere nice, but not expensive. I wanna move to Oregon, I have my car that I saved up for, and we'll drive all the way there if we have to. I found some nice apartments online. Two bedrooms. It's this beautiful city called Cannon Beach. We can make a new life there and leave this one behind.”

His sister sounded so hopeful and dreamy, that Castiel didn't dare say anything. He didn't ask her about how she could get a job and support them both when her savings ran out. He didn't ask about school, and ponder on how she could possibly quit when she had been dreaming about college all her life. He didn't ask any questions regarding his blindness.

All he asked was, “When are we leaving?”

“Right after the wedding Castiel. While Uncle Zachariah and Aunt Naomi are on their honeymoon. We'll leave then. We can't let them become suspicious of what we are planning though. We're gonna do it. We're gonna get out.” Even the tiniest thought of letting Anna down was crushed with those wishful words.

The people were stale, plain, unnoticeable. Castiel easily passed through them with ease, a smile plastered on his face. He moved through the crowd with only a cane to guide him. He was upset that he had forgotten his sunglasses at home, as everyone frequently commented on his “baby blue eyes”. It was irritating to say the least, because as soon as they said that, they realized that he was blind.

The wedding had been done and over with, and it was now the after party. It had been long and dull, the priest had gone on and on with the word of God and his blessings onto the Novak-Milton families. Though as interested in religion as he was, the monotone way in which the priest had preached was droning and irritatingly boring.

Castiel was sure that Anna and Balthazar had done well however. Everyone had cooed at the beginning, and he figured it must have been Naomi's niece, Lillith, the flower girl. He had hardly spoken to her, though from what he has overheard, Lillith did not seem like a pleasant child.

Now he was stuck in a large room that was overcrowded, and filled with the heavy fumes of perfume, cologne, and just people in general. It was disgusting. The air was thick and heavy, and Castiel could feel something in his chest stir.

It was sudden, and for a moment he wondered if he was having an asthma attack. No, it wasn't that. He hadn't had one since he was a kid, but he must be having a panic attack. Castiel was standing near a buffet table, with a cluster of people surrounding him. Too close. He leaned over the table, hands on it to steady himself as he wheezed deeply in and out. Heaving in empty breaths.

He felt his lungs being smashed against his ribcage, it felt like someone was behind him, holding him too tightly, iron arms squeezing around his chest, trying to suffocate him. He panicked as he felt the familiar ghost hands grab onto his legs, his arms, his back, his stomach, climbing their way up to his chest and face. It was too much. He could hardly breathe now, and he knew that if he had the gift of sight, his vision would be getting hazy and unclear.

And then a real, solid, hand clasped onto his arm, and brought him out of the depths of his panicky seas. They were still there, he just wasn't completely drowning in them. He felt the hand tug on his arm, pulling him away from the table and leading him stumbling into the unknown.

The fresh air was sudden but so needed. Castiel literally sunk to his knees in relief as he sucked in the free air, taking deep breaths and sitting down on what seemed to be concrete. Wherever he was, he was just grateful that he was out of that crowded area. A few minutes passed by, Castiel was glad to be out in the open with space around him, before he remembered the person that had taken him their in the first place. He turned his head to acknowledge the person. It wasn't Anna, Anna would be fretting all over him, possibly making the situation even worse. If it had been either Michael or Lucifer, they would be making snarky remarks. And his Uncle would be screaming at him.

That left one other person that Castiel thought would care enough to get him out of there.

“Balthazar?” He asked weakly.

“You alright kiddo?” His cousin asked, clearly concerned. Castiel was grateful that he had restrained himself from worrying over him as Anna would have done.

Castiel wanted to say that, yes, he was alright. He wanted to smile to reassure him that nothing was wrong. But he couldn't bring himself to lie to him. Though it had been a long time since Castiel had met with Balthazar, he remembered as kids that they were around each other often. Before their father had abandoned him. Before Zachariah had come and torn their family further apart. He remembered that Balthazar was a huge trouble maker, but that he would often protect Castiel from dangerous situations. It was a long time ago.

He shook his head.

“I wouldn't think so buddy. It was a stupid question, sorry.” He could hear his cousin shuffle closer to him, could hear the hesitance in his steps, and could feel the uncertainty from him. It was unusual to think of Balthazar as hesitant or uncertain, as he was very courageous and acted like this big know-it-all.

Castiel nodded softly to incline that he could sit beside him, and he could feel the relief flood out of his cousin.

“So. . . Uhm. Uncle Zachariah and Naomi Milton? How long do you think that will last?” It was the most inappropriate question to ask on the day of their wedding, and it caused Castiel to smile a bit at the silliness of the entire situation.

“Either they will last for an eternity or a month.” He decided. He could hear Balthazar chuckle beside him. It was true though. Zachariah and Naomi were either the perfect match, or the worst. It was hard to tell to be honest. They were very similar people in very different ways. They were both nasty and cruel, but while Zachariah was outright with his devious nature, Naomi was sneaky about her manipulative personality.

He could feel Balthazar shift slightly beside him, and then heard a long sigh from him, “What's wrong Cassie? Why did I find you freaking out back there?”

It was a good question. Castiel didn't feel claustrophobic very often, and even when he had, he knew how to keep his cool. He decided that wasn't the only element that led to his panic attack. Most likely, the fact that his uncle was marrying the most wretched woman might add to it, along with the little secret Anna had let him in on. Maybe it was even the helplessness he felt with his entire life. Anyone could pull the rug out from underneath his feet, and he would have to fall to his knees before them, confused scared, with no say for himself.

Whether or not he stayed with Zachariah or went with Anna, there would be major changes, and he would have to go along with them. He felt like he had no control over his own life. He couldn't stand how needy and dependent he was, it frustrated him to no end.

“. . . A lot has been going on.” He summed up shortly to his cousin, though immediately elaborated for him, after all, he and Balthazar had a long, mutual history. “Naomi is going to be moving in with us, and Anna,” Here he spoke quieter, “Anna wants to leave. She plans on bringing me with her. I just feel like I am being tugged around.”

“I get it Cassie, I really do. Every kid your age does. How old are you? Thirteen now?”

“Fourteen, and that's not what I me-”

“I know that you got it a lot different for a kid your age, but your feelings also come from being at that age, ya know?” Balthazar lamely tried to explain.

Castiel was furious with Balthazar, he felt betrayed at how he was treating Castiel liked a child, and ignoring the obvious reason why he was feeling that way at all. “Or,” Castiel bit out harshly, “Maybe it's because I am blind. I have even less of a say than 'kids my age'. Balthazar, the only choice I have is whether or not I should come out of my room at all. Whether or not to see my tutor for the day. I don't have the luxury of going to school, picking out my clothing based on the color or style, I don't get to decide whether or not to take a walk on my own, or go to the store. I _can_ do these things, but not on my own. Anna worries, Zachariah yells at me. It doesn't matter what it is. And now Anna wants to get me away from our uncle, and I want to leave, but I want to be able to help her on my own. I would be a burden. I've _always_ been a burden.”

Castiel was breathing in and out deeply from his rant, honestly he was grateful that Balthazar hadn't interrupted at all throughout his angry speech. He was a little embarrassed for snapping so much, however, at the moment he couldn't find it in himself to care.

“You're right Cassie,” Balthazar said at last, “I don't completely understand. Because you're blind, you get treated differently. Like a kid right?” Castiel nodded, facing away from Balthazar, “Look, I'm sorry about all this shit happening to you, but you don't have to live like this. You _do_ have a choice, everyone does, unfortunately you are just going to have to work harder for the results. And you know what, it really just isn't you. Life throws a lot of things at people that nobody has control of. You being blind will just make it harder to get over those obstacles. It sucks, but so does life.”

Castiel frowned, “Is that the best you can give me?” He asked, a bit skeptical. That was by far the worst motivational speech he had ever heard.

“I'd rather not lie Cassie. Besides, as long as you have Anna by your side you'll be fine. However, if you ever do need me, don't ever hesitate to give me a call.” Balthazar suggested, placing a steady hand onto Castiel's left shoulder.

He nodded. How else could he respond?

Just as he was drifting off, curled into a ball on his carpeted bedroom floor, there was a timid knock at his door. Castiel's head jerked up immediately, making him a bit dizzy. He shook his head to clear it, and stumbled onto his feet to walk to the door. With the tiniest creak, he opened it. “Anna?” He whispered.

“Yeah.” He heard her reply just as quietly, if not quieter, “You ready?”

Castiel nodded. He felt his heart beat fast. They were really gonna do it. They were just gonna up and leave. For good. He felt more certain about this after speaking to Balthazar. He was right after all, Castiel had choices, they were just harder to get at for him than for most people. He knew if he stayed here, he would have less of a say than if he went with Anna now. Anna listened to him, cared about what he needed and wanted. His uncle on the other hand . . .

“Alright, let's get going then Castiel.” Anna said softly, gently placing her small hand on his shoulder, easing him out of his room.

“Wait, let me grab my bag and my cane.” Castiel whispered, pulling away from his sister. He could hear her murmur, though couldn't make out exactly what it was. He rushed back into his room and picked up his bag by the side of his bed. “Okay.” He said, again with Anna, with his bag strapped across his shoulder and his cane in the other hand.

When one cannot use one of their senses, their other senses aren't improved to say, however their brain uses them more keenly in order to make up for that loss of sense. For Castiel of course, his hearing was more in tune to fill in for his lack of sight. So when he heard the creaking of the wooden floorboards from a few rooms down, while the two siblings were sneaking down the stairs, he froze.

He could feel Anna tug onto his arm, but he quickly put a finger over his mouth to hush her, a visual trick Gabriel had taught him as a kid. He heard another creaking in the wood, closer this time. He turned his head in the direction, intent on hearing them.

They should run. They should just run and get out of here. And he would start running, but several things stopped him. First of all, he did not want anyone in his family to know that they were leaving. They wanted to be sneaky about this in order to not get caught, so they would have more time to get as far away from this house as possible. And second of all, he was not very eager to run down stairs, blind or not.

Before either he or Anna could think of what to do next, the creaks turned into confident steps. He could hear Anna mutter, “Crap.” Immediately after, he could feel her wrench his wrist and start to drag him downstairs.

A loud voice boomed from up the stairs, it was Lucifer's, “What are you two doing?” Anna was still dragging Castiel away from their older brother, stumbling and fighting to keep his balance, he had no chance to respond to him. “Oh. Gotcha'. You two are gonna do what Baby Gabe did and run off. . . Smart.” Castiel was a little surprised to hear the approval in Lucifer's voice, though he would have been more surprised if it were Michael.

Anna slowed down, but she didn't stop walking. Castiel kept up with her on his own now, but as soon as he felt Anna yank open the front door, he heard her take a deep breath.

Everything seemed to go both incredibly slow and also seemed to be sped up. All Castiel could focus on when hearing Anna's loud gasp, was how the cool night air was just barely hitting his face. It was through this little fact that he understood that someone must be standing at the doorway. And it was by the strong smell of the fancy cologne that he figured out that this person was Michael.

Time sped forward again. He could feel the eldest brother swiftly come forward, tear Anna's hands away from him, and man handle him away from the door that led to his freedom. He made a wailing sound of anger, trying with all his strength to wrench himself away from Michael, to get back to safety. To Anna.

“Quit squirming you brat!” Michael hissed, tightening his grip on Castiel's arms, forcing them behind his back, straining his shoulders in the process. He could hear Anna shout for him in the background, and even thought that he felt her shove Michael a little.

All the noises blurred into one. Anna's voice faded slowly behind him, seeming to drift away as he was shoved further back into the house. Once Lucifer started talking it seemed like that was all he could hear. “Oh come on Michael. Let him go. Clearly he is as unhappy as everyone else in this family. Why even keep him here? He's a burden. Let Anna take care of 'im.” Even if Lucifer was insulting him, Castiel felt suddenly grateful to him since he was trying to persuade Michael to let him leave.

“How about you stop lecturing me and grab Anna?” Michael bit out, squeezing Castiel's arms even more, digging his fingers deeply into the skin. He was sure he would be showing bruises later.

It was nerve wrecking for Castiel to fight again his brother with no hint of a result. It was terrifying as he was led up the stairs without being able to cling to the rails, to only trust Michael to not let him fall.

And he was horrified, when halfway up the stairs, he suddenly felt other hands from in front of him grab his shoulders. Immediately, it turned into tug-of-war between the two eldest brothers, and Castiel was the rope between them. At this point, he wasn't sure whether or not Lucifer seriously cared for his safety, or if this was just another excuse for his childish and petty fights with Michael. One thing he was certain of, was that he was petrified about how this would end.

Much like he assumed, after a few agonizing minutes of literally being in the middle of the two furious brothers, he was suddenly yanked harder by one of them, then let go and the next thing he knew, he was tumbling down the stairs.

The fall was the slowest part. He first remembered hitting his back, his elbow, then his head, and from there he couldn't tell what was what anymore. By the time he reached the ground, he was in excruciating pain, his entire body ached, and he wasn't sure where he was or what exactly had happened. He attempted to lift his head up, though instantly regretted it. It felt like there was a blazing fire in his head, and the screaming match between Michael and Lucifer were not helping matters.

He half expected to hear Anna rush by his side and tend to him. But after a few moments of waiting for her, he was shocked to realize that she must have left while he was being tugged around. He had been a distraction, a diversion. She had gotten free.

He didn't know whether to be furious, or to be glad she was out of here. At the moment, it didn't seem to matter, since his entire world felt like it was spinning. The back of his head hit the hard floor, the last words he heard were bitter and spiteful, and he lost consciousness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from song called "Breaking Inside" by Shinedown (obviously one of my favorite bands whoops)


	4. Stuck In Reverse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel is left alone with four raging monsters after being abandoned by Gabriel and Anna. He spends the next few years being mentally and physically abused by both Zachariah and Naomi, along with being humiliated by Micahel and Lucifer. That is until Lucifer mysteriously disappears a few days before his eighteenth birthday, then oddly reappears a few months later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Physical and mental abuse, threats, bribes, blackmail, knife use, isolation, and humiliation.
> 
> Alright, so yes excuses, but there is a reason I am late with this chapter. I wrote it last weekend, had a merry time writing it in fact. But my laptop like just sorta died on Tuesday when I got back from school and I really didn't know what was wrong with it. Everytime I turned it on, the screen would not even light up, and it kept making this beeping noise. And guess where chapters 4 & 5 were. Yeah. On here. I am saving everything to my Drive and using Cloud now though so this hopefully doesn't happen again. I have no idea why but when I was just sitting down this morning to trouble shoot my laptop (I had already tried several times prior) it just started working without me having to do anything... Didn't do a thing. But hey now my screen (which was derpy before) is in perfect condition and it's working. It's a bit sluggish, granted, but it's working. My poor baby Xia almost died sheesh. 
> 
> Anyways, here is chapter 4!! To make up for the lateness of this chapter I will try to finish the rest of chapter 5 up and post it as soon as I can. Hopefully after that I can try to get back on my Thursday schedule.

When he had awoken after the incident, he expected the sterilized, musty clean smells of a hospital to be around him, but the only thing he smelled was a different house. The room smelled like him, but there was another unfamiliar smell of _stranger_ underneath that. Castiel startled upright, immediately regretting the action as his head throbbed in a hissing pain.

He was frightened to be in a strange place. If it was a hospital, that would be one thing, but this place didn't have the smell nor the cold feeling of a hospital he was accustomed to. In fact, deep in his bones he felt that wherever he was, it had an even icier feeling than that of a hospital. He called out without thinking better of it, “Anna!?” Before he realized that she wouldn't be here. First Gabriel, now Anna. Neither of them would be here.

What ifs floated into his head. From terrifying ones, to hopeful ones. Anna surely wouldn't have abandoned him like that. She would never leave him with these horrible people to look out for herself. She cared for him and loved him. Right? But then again, so did Gabriel. Gabe had constantly fretted over he and Anna. Then he had left because everything was too much. The same thing must have happened to Anna.

Unless, she had taken him away after all. He didn't recognize this place just by the feeling and the smells, but he could tell that he has at least been here for awhile. Maybe Anna hadn't abandoned him. Perhaps she had come back for him...

Yet he knew that wasn't possible, because of the icy thin feeling of this place. He felt like if he did anything wrong, if someone heard him, then the ice would shatter and would bring in a frenzy storm of a blizzard. He knew he would freeze quickly.

He knew he couldn't just sit on this lumpy thing of a mattress any longer, just pondering without anything stable to go on. So Castiel scrambled out of his bed to feel his way down onto the floor. The floor was covered in a shaggy carpet, though he couldn't find himself a cane lying across the floor nor leaning against the bed he had been resting in.

Slowly, he made his way across the room. He would kick a few feet ahead of him before moving forward, as the last thing he wanted right now was to trip. He finally found himself at a cold wall, and felt along it until he got to the corner of the two walls. It wasn't until he was at the third wall that he finally felt what seemed to be a wooden door beneath his fingertips. Frantically, Castiel searched for the doorknob, and felt a huge relief pour from his heart as he found it. Just as quickly as that relief came, it left when he tried to turn the knob, only to find it locked.

Panic flooded him as he realized that he was locked in this unfamiliar room, in a different house and in some place that only God knows where. He started knocking on the door timidly, yet before he knew it, he was slamming on it and screaming out for help. For someone to come to him. To escape the loneliness he was trapped in.

At last someone answered his screams, however not in the way he wanted, but in the way he had half expected. The door before him was slammed open, and he was knocked backwards as he felt a huge figure of a body swipe towards him, pulling him off his feet in a swift move by his collar.

And the barking in his face started, insults and smacks started. Of course, it was his uncle. “You filthy piece of trash, worthless garbage. You're just about as useful as fucking road kill. You learn to respect your elders. If you find yourself locked in a fucking room, there's a goddamn reason. You learn to wait until someone comes to you. Don't you dare pull this shit again. You disrespectful blind rat!”

Castiel held in his tears at the words that stung more than the punches he received on his stomach, arms, and face. Though, both would cause him a great deal of grief later on. He kept in his panicking cries as he listened to the next words from his uncle.

“Worthless. Abandoned. By your father. By Gabriel. And now Anna left you too. It's a matter of time before Michael and Lucifer leave you as well. You should be grateful to me. You should be on your knees praising me. Not defiantly trying to leave me to live some piece of shit life. You worthless disabled trash. All you do is take up space. You are lucky I give you anything. I don't understand why God has tried so hard on nothings like you.”

He tried not to writhe in pain at the words and the blows he was now receiving on his chest and stomach. It felt like an eternity before his uncle stopped. He was certain that it had only been a few minutes, if not less. Thoughts swept in and out of his head like the clashing waves of a restless storm.

Castiel whimpered as he heard Zachariah move closer to him, and nearly cried out as he felt him sharply take his jaw in his fingers, and turn his head to what he figured would be his face. Castiel was reminded of being a kid, when at times like the car ride away from his friends, Zachariah would grab his face like this and spit nasty things at him. Except this was worse than times before. Because now he had nobody to rely on to help him out or to tell him that his uncle was just a horrible human being.

“You learn to keep quiet and behave, and I'll allow you to live here without any confrontation. Otherwise, I will send you onto the streets. Even better, into a mental hospital. You belong in one. So be quiet and obey me, or else.”

At those words, Castiel felt a bit of the fight out of him slip. In the next four years, a little more of that strength would fade away until eventually, there was merely an ounce left.

Most of the time, Castiel was stuck in his room. Often times, Zachariah would have the “family” move to different houses a few times a year. Castiel preferred it in his room honestly. It was better than being out with Zachariah and Naomi sweet-sickly flirting, or being near Michael and Lucifer when they fought. Obviously he now knew to what extent they could go with their fighting. The first few weeks after the incident had happened, he had a concussion, and his uncle knocking his head around immediately afterwards was no help.

He preferred to keep away from them all. He liked his quiet in whatever room he was placed in within a new house. He liked to read his books with the simple touch of his fingers, and he liked to escape within them. Nowadays, Castiel would rather be taught by his own personal tutor than to be bothered by the evil students that he would otherwise have to face at school.

He was always afraid. He was always weary. Being so intensely sheltered now made him terrified of the outside world. He rarely went out, and when he did, Castiel would hold his cane tightly and take small steps forward. He was constantly anxious.

Castiel still wanted out of this situation deep down, but he deemed himself worthless on his own. His uncle was right after all, he was worthless without someone by his side to guide him in his life. He was at loss if someone snatched his cane away from him.

Zachariah was not a liar, he was just hauntingly honest.

With his faith of his brother and sister diminishing, Castiel slowly reached the age of eighteen. He vaguely wondered if anything special would happen with his family then, though he was not too surprised when he was simply wished a muffled happy birthday from Zachariah and Michael, and was too enthusiastically congratulated as Naomi coldly observed he was now an adult. He had no problem reading in between the lines when she said that. _Too bad you can't exactly do anything because you are a handicapped piece of crap._

Lucifer didn't even appear on his birthday. That also wasn't a big shocker. However, a few weeks later, he heard a murmur from Naomi in the hall, when she said to his uncle, “It's been awhile since we've seen Lucifer. Did he run off too?”

“Beats me. He'll come back. I'm sure he would want to mess with Michael again soon.”

It dawned on Castiel that the last time he had heard from Lucifer was the day before his birthday, when he heard him criticizing Michael in the hall near his room. Castiel definitely didn't like Lucifer's company, though he found him more tolerable than everyone else. So he was actually a bit uneasy about hearing that he was missing.

A few more weeks passed, until it had been three months since the family had seen Lucifer. During that time, Michael would often come into Castiel's room and pester him, as it seemed that he also enjoyed belittling Lucifer just as much as the other brother had with him. He would constantly humiliate Castiel in various ways.

Such as a few days ago, “Hey Cassie, think you can tell me if there's something in my teeth? Oh wait. . .” Then laugh in his face.

Or, “Would you go downstairs and grab me my books on the desk?” However he would torment him here and Castiel would actually have to go downstairs and search for the right books, none in braille. And if he didn't happen to get the right ones, which was often the case, Michael would throw them back at him with a loud sigh.

As usual, when Michael wasn't bothering him. Castiel was left alone with a book or a movie. He preferred that to the alternative. Though on this particular day, while he was listening to a Disney movie again, he heard a rattling at his window. After a few moments of listening closely and not hearing or feeling anything differently, he decided it must have just been the wind. He should have listened to enough movies to know that was not the case.

Soon after he turned away from the window, he heard the shuffling of clothes and felt hands wrap over his mouth. Alarmed, he started to flail his hands uselessly until he felt his cane on the floor beside him. As soon as he grabbed for it though, he felt one of the hands over his mouth snatch it away from him, and then heard a familiar voice hiss into his ear, “Stop it Castiel. We don't need Zachariah or Michael coming in here, now do we?”

Castiel froze at the chilling sound of Lucifer's voice, “Look, I'm getting you out of here. It's pathetic how they treat you, and I feel sympathetic towards you. You don't want to be here, do you? You would rather be with Gabriel, right Cassie? I can get you to him. All you have to do is do me a little favor and you'll be free to go.”

Castiel shook his head fiercely. As much as he wanted out of here, he was too terrified to leave what little comfort he had gained now. Not to mention that he didn't exactly trust Lucifer with his life, and knew very well that this little favor would be sticky.

“Whether you like it or now, you are leaving here. Now cooperate Castiel.” He heard his brother threaten coldly, still as silent and as sly as he had been before. Castiel was about to shake his head again when he felt a crisp and sharp object at his throat.

He let out a little muffled squeak at the feeling of it, and pathetically nodded limply. He hadn't much of a choice at this point.

It was difficult to get away from Uncle Zachariah's property. Being pushed forward in front of Lucifer after being lifted over the window, and somehow surviving the push off the roof of the second story smoothly, immediately being hauled by Lucifer after he had recollected himself.

When they were off, Lucifer stopped keeping him so close, rather grabbing his wrist and lugging him behind him to wherever the hell they were going. Belatedly, Castiel realized he hadn't had the chance to grab his cane. Being yanked by his brother like this reminded him of being dragged by Anna before she had left, and it was odd to think of her from so many years ago. He thought of his siblings constantly, however he tended to avoid the times around them disappearing.

They walked awhile before Lucifer stopped, wrestled with clanging keys, and pushed Castiel into a car. He figured out that he was in the passenger seat when Lucifer climbed into the seat beside him, their seats only being separated by the center counsel in the car. He fidgeted silently as he waited for Lucifer to start the car, but instead felt that he was being stared at. “What?” He asked quietly, yet as firmly as he possibly could muster.

“You're different now than when Anna and Gabe were around you know.” Lucifer observed aloud.

“Of course I am.” Castiel snapped a bit coldly.

The bite just made Lucifer laugh in what seemed to be relief, “Well Cassie, glad that you aren't totally gone. I was scared that Uncle Zach totally killed off all your sass.”

“Why does this matter Lucifer?” Castiel asked a bit angrily, and a bit wearily.

“Because. I gotcha' out and I needed to make sure you aren't just gonna go running back if I bring you to Gabriel. I'm not just doing this for you, though that's a big part. As your older brother, I do want you to be happy.”

“So much for that.” Castiel murmured stubbornly.

That got another laugh from his elder brother, “Yeah, well it coulda' been worse. At least you only got Zach smacking you around some. And every once and awhile Mikey and I would toss you around. It's what you get when you're the little one in the family ya know?”

Castiel wanted to call Lucifer out on the bullshit, but he remained silent instead, waiting for his brother to get on with the point.

“By the way, sorry for pulling that knife out. Just had to get you out of there fast. In fact, we should get going now.”

“You still haven't told me what you want your little 'little' favor is.”

He could feel the icy sly smile from Lucifer, a smile that made him feel as if ants were crawling on his skin and freezing it a single prick at a time.

“Ah come on Cassie, I'll tell 'ya. Just wait a bit. We still gotta drive the hell outtah this place.”

Somehow, Castiel had managed to fall asleep on the car ride to nowhere. Car rides were hard to keep fun with nothing to entertain you, and Castiel didn't even have the option of looking out the window. He usually had a book with him when he was in a car, however, he had nothing on him except some change in his pocket and a bit of pocket lint.

“Man,” Castiel heard Lucifer say when he grudgingly woke up, “Didn't think a dude could snore so loud.”

He scowled at the unnecessary comment, and rubbed his eyes sleepily. “How long have we been driving now?” He asked, genuinely curious, wondering if he could get an idea as to where they were going.

“Few hours. I bet Gabe will be pissed to see me, but as soon as he will see you, man he is gonna be way too clingy and annoy the hell out of you.”

Castiel didn't comment on that. He had been wondering where his absent brother had been all these years, and wasn't sure how he would react to meeting with him again. Secretly, he doubted that Gabe would be happy to see him at all. After all, he had left and not kept in touch whatsoever for a reason. A helpless and pathetic blind brother could most likely one of those reasons. Of course, he was trying to get away from the others, not Castiel and Anna, but why couldn't he try to keep in touch even a little? At least to let them know he was okay and not dead. Why couldn't he have just taken him and Anna with him in the first place? There was a reason Gabriel did these things. There must be. And that reason, he had concluded miserably, must be because of him.

“You have listened to Zachariah too much little brother.” Lucifer said, startling Castiel out of his thoughts, “I know what you are thinking, but you gotta know that those aren't your thoughts. They are his. Get them out of your head before you meet with Gabriel again. I am positive you two will be happy as soon as you see each other.”

“Why are you bringing me to him?” Castiel finally got the nerve to ask. He was highly suspicious of his brother's motives. He knew Lucifer well, and he knew that he was a very selfish person who did not just go out of his merry way to help people.

“Ah, Cassie, I'm hurt. I just want you to be happy.” Castiel didn't even need to give him a look to tell him that he knew that was complete bull. “Alright, alright. Well, see.” He heard Lucifer sigh deeply here, “I'm looking for this guy. I need you to find him, gain his trust, and then bring him to me.”

“Why?” Castiel asked, apprehensive about his brother's intention, “What did this 'guy' do to you?”

“He hasn't necessarily done anything Castiel. But he will. I need him to . . . well help me out.” Lucifer calmly explained to Castiel.

Castiel knew better to believe what he was saying was innocent. He knew that his brother didn't lie, but that he twisted his words to make him seem like he was a good guy whose intention were for the greater good.

“He's going to help everyone out Castiel. Not just me. Everyone. You know about my little side job-” Ah, yes of course. The little gang Lucifer was apart of. Though now that Castiel thought about it, it must have grown since he was younger, though he didn't know how much. He recalled the arguments Lucifer and Michael would have over the gang, and Michael had compared it to an evil cooperation, “Well, he is a great candidate for one of the leaders, and I need you to retrieve him for the job.”

Of course, Castiel's suspicion still lingered, “Does he want to do it?”

“Of course he does Cassie! I just can't be seen exchanging words with him. It's a dangerous word out there. Nobody would suspect you however. A blind kid, barely eighteen. It's perfect. You gotta be subtle about it though. He'll know exactly what you're talking about and come with you. We have some code thing and he'll get it right away, alright kid?”

Castiel sucked in a deep breath, he was terrified of this situation, “And if I don't do it?” He asked.

“Well, you can always talk to my buddies Castiel. However I'd much prefer if you didn't have to do that. After all, I'd have a pretty bad rep if I let them hurt my little bro.”

Castiel nodded shakily, “What's his name?”

He could sense the winning smirk Lucifer had on his face before he said the name.

The anticipation before being reunited with Gabriel was nerve-wrecking. He could hardly get a grip on himself as Lucifer parked the car and told him that they were there, get out of the car. He followed sluggishly, gripping Lucifer's hand as he was blindly led forward. He really felt like a little kid again. Castiel nearly tripped over a curb, but thankfully he caught himself before he fell.

And then they had stopped, and Lucifer was knocking on the door, in front of Castiel so that he was hidden.

Thoughts raced in and out of his mind. What ifs. What if as soon as Gabriel saw him he told Lucifer to get that _thing_ away from him. He shuddered as he thought about how angry and cold he knew Gabriel could get, and wondered how shameful it would feel if he let those energies fall upon Castiel. He wondered what Lucifer would do with him when Gabriel told him to take him away. No Castiel, he thought to himself, it's if, not when. What ifs. Not whens.

The door opened.

Castiel hated being blind most of all in moments like now. He wished, as Lucifer stepped away from him, that he was able to see Gabriel. Able to see his facial expressions, able to see how different he might have looked, see if he had grown at all. He wished that he could see his eyes. People said that looking into one's eyes led to the windows of the soul. He wanted to see Gabriel's soul, determine whether he was hated or not, and run if he found out he was.

When Castiel felt a sudden drift of cold air rush from in front of him, he couldn't help himself as he cringed, preparing himself for a hit or a shove. Instead he was embraced by those warm arms, and tugged into his first hug since Anna had left him. It was his first hug from Gabriel in eight years, and at the same time that it felt too alien, it also felt all too familiar. He sank into it, those terrified and tense feelings he had held onto for so long draining out of his body. He let himself melt into the hug, and clung back tightly to his absent brother. He as no longer absent. He was here. He was Gabriel. And he felt a small relief in that familiar smell of candy on him, along with the happiness that he hadn't grown an inch since he had last met with him.

“Fucking hell, Castiel,” He heard Gabriel's muffled voice against his shoulder, “I am so sorry. I really am. You've grown up so much since I last saw you. I mean, that makes sense since we haven't seen each other in eight years. Why are you here? Where is Anna? Why are you with Lucifer?”

Castiel felt bombarded by the questions, and he wanted to ask Gabriel all those questions that he had been holding onto for years now. But he bit his tongue instead, shaking his head, and letting himself sob into his older brother's shirt.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of chapter is from "Fix You" by Coldplay. Amazing song!!!


	5. We'd See The Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, everything comes with a price. Castiel hadn't come to Gabriel's out of free will, however he is grateful to be with his big brother again. Reassured by his caring nature, Castiel feels better than he has in a long time. While Gabriel is at work, Castiel attempts to go about daily life without screwing everything up. Easier said than done, as he proves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Panic attack, bribery, emotional abuse.
> 
> Whoops. I got this done a day late. I know, I promised an early chapter to make up for the last one, but that was kinda hard since I was behind because of that laptop stuff. It's okay though you guys. This one is pretty long. Lots of brotherly love then Castiel struggles with normal shit. Which sucks. You wanna know what's hard as hell? Writing without using the sense of vision. I am a very visual writer. So I have to make up for that loss of vision with this character and use other sensual mediums. 
> 
> Just a little reminder, I just finished writing this, and will edit later. If you see mistakes please let me know. I will fix them later I swear. :D Thanks! Enjoy you guys. Much love.

After the sudden reunion with his older brother, Gabriel led both Castiel and Lucifer into his home. Almost immediately, Castiel nearly tripped over something in the house, though was caught by Gabriel who murmured out an apology along the lines of, “Ah, sorry. Wasn't expecting anyone anytime soon. So uhm, the place is a mess. Watch your step.” Right after Gabriel had said that, Castiel could hear him smack himself on the forehead. He must have realized how terrible that might have sounded to Castiel, and he could hear his brother become flustered as he apologized.

“It's fine, Gabriel. Thank you.” Castiel replied. He wasn't sure exactly what that thank you was for, whether it be for not hating him, for warning him about the mess at all, or even acknowledging his mistake and then apologizing for it- Something nobody has done in a long time.

“Thanks for what? For me ditching you and Anna with those assholes?” Gabriel asked bitterly, sighing as he sunk into the couch.

Castiel was honestly, a bit surprised at what his brother said, though he didn't exactly know what to say since part of him still wanted to yell at him and ask why he had left without a word.

Instead, Lucifer broke the silence by whistling and shouting out, “Wow, lots of tension. Anyways, I did my job. Gabe, he's yours. Cassie, be happy. Both of you behave now.”

“Wait a minute Luci.” Gabriel grumbled, and Castiel stood awkwardly in the place he was standing by the door as heard Gabriel get off the couch with a squeak, and walk up to where he was sure Lucifer was standing, “Why did you even bring him here?”

“Well Gabey, he is eighteen. He wanted out of that place. Obviously, you both missed each other. So here you go.”

He could tell his brother was not convinced with the chopped up little story. And he wanted to butt in, yet he couldn't get himself to as he remembered the threat Lucifer had made to him before walking up to the house, telling him that he couldn't mutter a word about what he was supposed to do. Same threat for if he ditched out on the deal.

Castiel was scared that he would somehow screw things up. Not only with the deal, but with Gabriel. He was frightened that he would disappoint the few people he cared for, and who, as far as he could tell, cared for him as well. For a long time up until now, everything had been decided for him. Now that he had this free will (well, more so than before) he was uncertain whether or not he would be able to succeed with it in his grasp. Castiel was uncertain in his own abilities.

His faith had wilted in a lot of things and people. God, Gabriel and Anna, his morals, beliefs, even his books, so many other things, however most of all in himself.

“What's the real story Castiel? Why did Lucifer bring you here?” He heard Gabriel ask, snapping him out of his thoughts. He tilted his head up unexpectedly, as he wasn't used to being included in conversations about him, as odd as that seemed. Though, he hadn't much of a say in what happened to him all these years, decisions were made for him.

He didn't want to lie to Gabriel. The last thing he wanted to do after reuniting with his supposedly long lost brother was to shatter his trust. But he knew that he, and possibly Gabriel himself, would be hurt if he let him in on why Lucifer had brought him here at all. So he simply faced in the direction he guessed Gabriel was in, and said, “He brought me here because he knew I wanted out. He might have also been annoyed to not be the youngest whiny brat in the household.” He joked flatly, a faint smile on his face.

He heard Lucifer snort, “Wow Cassie, low blow. But see Gabe? Even Castiel knows that I'm not out to get anything from him. Believe it or not, I am not such a terrible person. Think what you want, but I brought you back the brother _you_ abandoned, and I really need to get going.”

Gabriel was silent from the time Castiel spoke to sounds of Lucifer gathering his stuff and closing the door behind him.

The first evening with Gabriel was alien, yet unfamiliarity relaxing. Eating in peace without the fear of worrying of a fight was something Castiel found he much enjoyed. Gabriel's apartment had a homey sensation to it. He soon discovered it was quite small, but also that he conveniently did have two bedrooms, and that the house would be easy for him to navigate since the size was so small.

The cheap taste of fast food was amazing, and Gabriel laughed hard as he discovered that Castiel enjoyed a cheap burger from Burger King more than he had liked the elaborate dinners Anna had attempted to prepare for them when they were younger.

“Do you have any friends?” Was Castiel's first question, he asked it before he could stop himself, and he wasn't sure if he would've if he had thought the question over anyways.

He could hear Gabriel chew loudly, then swallow as he thought about the question, “Well yeah, I guess. I work at this generic bakery, full of sweets and breads. I work with Hael and Hannah. Neither them are the best cooks, but they try. Hael has this big dream of seeing the world. Hannah told me she has been saving up to travel to the Grand Canyon or something. Hannah is kinda dreamy but also a bit serious? Not sure to explain her. You'd probably get along with both of them though.”

Castiel smiled as he ate his food and listened to his brother ramble on. It was nice to hear his big brother again. He felt safe here. Castiel was happy to be in the messy but cozy apartment with Gabriel talking about his job and his friends.

He also talked about his neighbors. There were the Trans right next door, and a lesbian couple down the hall. Gabriel seemed pretty content as he talked about them. “There's Linda, and her son Kevin. Linda gave me the first impression of some quiet nice lady, but damn, I have heard her screaming next door and she can be a pretty edgy woman. Kevin is a giant nerd, super studious and intelligent. I can't keep up with that kid to be honest. Charlie and Jo live down the hall. Well really, it's just Charlie's place, but Jo is around so often that it might as well be both of their apartment. Charlie is also a geek, she works with computers, hacks into shit. Jo works down at the Roadhouse, a bar that her family owns. They are pretty neat girls.”

Castiel was hungry for the information on all these new people. He was pretty okay just to sit here and listen to Gabriel speak of them. But he knew he had to contribute to the conversation a little bit. “How about you? Are you dating anyone?” He asked it more just to ask rather than to actually know.

“Well, I was dating this chick Kali for awhile. But as sexy and intriguing as she was, she was kind of a hot head. We just drifted apart more than broke up, and when I asked about it, she was like, 'Yeah I think we're done.' Wasn't too bad. We get along. Never was a romantic kind of person. She was an amazing woman, but she was also a really great lay.” Gabriel admitted, “I'm a terrible person for saying that, but she said the same thing about me.” He said with a chuckle.

“What about you Cassie? What's been going on with you and Anna?” Gabriel asked Castiel He could tell that Gabriel was leaning in from the sounds of his wooden chair squeaking and from the shuffling sound of the fabric from his clothing rubbing against each other.

Castiel felt a sharp pain in his heart as it slowly dawned upon him, that of course Gabriel didn't know that Anna had left long ago as well. He knew that when he told him, that the fact would just make Gabriel all that much worse about leaving them, however, he was not going to lie again if he could avoid it. “Anna left.” He stated simply, leaving the air open for questions.

“Oh,” Was all that Castiel could hear Gabriel murmur. The two continued eating before Gabriel finally asked, “When did she leave?”

“A few years ago. When I was fourteen. We were both going to leave, but due to circumstances, she had to leave me behind.” Well, he thought silently, she didn't _have_ to, though he was glad that she had left when she did. He knew that it was unlikely that either of them would have been able to leave after that incident. Naomi was very strict and bossy, Anna would have hated her more than she realized.

Gabriel kept silent, and Castiel knew that he must be thinking over exactly when that was, and what he had been doing at the time. “Fuck, I'm sorry Castiel. If I had known . . .”

With a shake of his head, Castiel firmly said, “Don't. It's fine Gabriel. All that matters is that neither of us are there any longer.” Theses were words he had been dreaming of saying since Zachariah had come into their lives, since Michael and Lucifer had started their continuous fighting, since Naomi came into the family. They felt heavy rolling off his tongue, and they felt shackled down by a chain and its ball. It certainly didn't feel true.

“Yeah, yeah that's true.” Gabriel said after a moment. Castiel imagined that he had been nodding before he made the statement, “Though I gotta ask, any idea where Anna is? We can visit her sometime.”

Castiel let out a small chuckle, “Well last I heard, was when she was dreaming to travel to some place in Oregon. I forget the city, though I am sure I wrote it down somewhere.”

Again, Gabriel was silent for longer than necessary. “Funny. You know, before you were born, when we were real young, Dad and Mom, they took us to Oregon. It was gorgeous. I mean, I thought Colorado and Lake Tahoe were better. But I think that the last trip we took was to some rented vacation home in Oregon, when Anna was around three.”

He hadn't known all this. It was hard to envision a day when his entire family had been in a vacation home in Oregon for a relaxing vacation. His absent father, happily sitting beside his ever mysterious mother. Michael and Lucifer late in their child years and early in their teens, bickering, yet on such a small scale compared to now. Gabriel, a goofy kid playing with Anna, who was just a tot. It was such a weird thing to think of. His family, complete, whole, and happy.

“Things used to be pretty simple, huh?” Castiel asked, breaking himself from those dreamy thoughts of laughter and imaginary voices. Whenever he had thought of his mother when he was young, he had only thought of a soft-spoken voice, light and so pretty. He wondered if that was how it had been, or if had constructed a false image of her.

“Yeah. But hey, I heard that Zachariah got married to that Naomi Milton woman? Yikes. How was that?” Gabriel asked in that joking voice.

Castiel thought about that commanding voice and the icy cold feelings he got when he was sure she was watching him soundlessly. He had never liked Naomi, thought he disliked her even more after living with her. She had constantly attempted to create trouble for him, and when she had first lived there she would manipulate him.

 _I know how you can get Michael and Lucifer to stop fighting Castiel. Just ask them about your mother._ For whatever reason at the time, he had believed her. Perhaps he was desperate for at least a single kind soul to be around him. The reaction he got from his brothers was horrific. Both had instantly started screaming at him, then at each other. That fight had gotten messy, and Castiel had even been hit in the process.

Naomi often threatened Castiel too, but instead of doing anything to him, she would promise that Zachariah would hear of his bad deeds, and that she would personally make sure of it. Because of that woman, he was beat multiple times by his uncle, more so then than ever before. Neither Gabriel or Anna being there for him might have also been a factor that contributed to this sudden frenzy of uncontrolled outrage from Zachariah.

“Not fun.” Castiel answered simply. Thinking about that wretched woman made him wonder what could happen to him if Zachariah and Naomi got a hold of him later, capturing him after his escape. It was terrifying to think of what they would do to him.

Both of their food had been finished awhile back, and Castiel sat quietly as he listened to Gabriel scoot out of his chair, and collect the wrappers with a loud crinkling sound. He felt a small breath of panic pass through him as he wondered what he could do to be useful, but before the panic could spread any further, he heard Gabriel mutter to him, “You're the guest, quit worrying.”

He still felt pretty bad for not being able to help, though he knew that Gabriel was just helping him out. He wasn't used to the house yet, and he wasn't really sure what he could do anyways.

After dinner, the two brothers went into the family room, where they sat back into the couch to watch (or in Castiel's case, listen to) some adult cartoon Castiel hadn't even heard of before. Gabriel didn't seem to surprised that Castiel didn't know of it, though he teased him about it, lightly nudging him and calling him a nerd.

“It's called Futurama. Pretty much it's about this lowlife guy who gets frozen and wakes up a thousand years later in the future.” Gabriel explained to him.

“It sounds like an interesting concept for science fiction, not a comedy aimed for adults.” Castiel analyzed, listening to the multiple dirty jokes made between two distinct characters.

Gabriel laughed, “It could go anyway I guess. Fry is the idiot who was blasted to the past, and Bender is the robot who is all money hard. Leela is the girl talking sense into them.” He explained, which was helpful for Castiel to catch up with what was going on in the show. It was so fast paced though, that it didn't seem to matter.

It seemed the show focused more on jokes than anything factually scientific. “I believe that this could have potential with an actual story. Rather than an adult cartoon.”

“Awh, Cassie, you're such a party pooper. It's just supposed to be funny. Figures though, I doubt that you understood half those jokes.” As embarrassing as it was, Castiel secretly admitted to himself that he had probably missed them too. He could understand the jokes that Shakesphere put into his texts, but when it came to this eradicate show, he was at loss.

“Anyways,” Gabriel said, dragging their attention away from the television show, “I don't exactly have the second bedroom set up. I have a bed in there and everything, but I have mostly just been using that room as a storage room. You can sleep on the couch tonight, but I'll have to clean the second room tomorrow after work.”

He understood, and nodded when Gabriel stopped talking, “When do you go to work and get off, if you don't min me asking?”

“Oh right, it's fine man I don't mind. I go at six in the morning to open the shop, then leave around three in the afternoon. Pretty regular job. I'll leave the remote and phone on the coffee table for you, and I think I got some leftovers from a few nights ago in the fridge if you're hungry. I can show you the microwave. I don't have anything labeled in Braille, but I'm sure I can get some stickers for that or something later.”

“That's fine, I'll manage.” Castiel murmured, honestly touched that Gabriel had thought of doing all of that in the first place. He was sure he could do some things himself though, despite that he had been solely dependent for so many years.

So suddenly that it frightened Castiel, he was pulled into a tight hug by Gabriel, “Man, I missed you a lot. I am so sorry I left. I'm gonna make up for it Cassie, I swear.”

Castiel smiled into the warmth of the hug, squeezing back, “You've already made up for it by accepting me into your home,” He spoke honestly.

He could hear Gabriel snort and then let out a wet laugh, “Yeah, alright. Well, everything's gonna be okay now, I swear. We will be alright together right? You wanna be here?”

“Of course I want to be here Gabriel.” Castiel said, alarmed by the uncertain sound of Gabriel's voice.

“Good. Good.”

Castiel felt his gut twisting inside him as his thoughts mistakenly drifted to Lucifer and his promise to him. He wondered how in the world he would find the man he was looking for. He wondered if he would be watched until he did.

He wondered if he was being watched now.

Castiel woke up with panic running through his veins, he was sweating it and breathing it in and out deeply with his lungs. That panic slowly drifted away when he realized that he was no longer in his own bed. He was on a couch, with comfortable blankets on top of him, and the television running in the background. The memories of the previous day resurfaced, and the panic was easing away.

He eventually stopped sitting upright in disbelief, and swung his legs over the edge of the couch. Gabriel had given Castiel some extra clothes for him to wear. Castiel was a bit surprised how tall he had gotten. Gabriel was a lot shorter than he had anticipated. The sweats he was wearing ended right above his ankles, and he was sure that they were a tad too long for Gabriel.

The warmth on his back indicated that the window must be behind the couch, and the curtains were either light, or drawn. Given where the heat was coming from, he assumed it was morning. Gabriel had told him last night that the front of the house faced the East, it was something that he and Anna would always tell him when he was in an unfamiliar place.

The day began. Castiel felt like a sloth as he tread around the house cautiously, he was careful with every step he took. Despite his wary efforts however, he still managed to run into the end table, knocking down a glass object and breaking it into pieces onto the wooden floor.

He cursed silently at himself, tracking exactly where the glass would be as he circled around the area in which the sound of shattering glass had come from. Castiel walked into the kitchen, taking tentative steps forward until he found the door to the closet. He waved around before him and found a broom, and a dustpan. He dragged a trashcan along behind him as well.

It had certainly been awhile since he had knocked something over and broke it. He had only swept up glass by himself twice, and both times he had ended up getting plenty of cuts from the glass up along his palms and arms.

Castiel retraced his steps back to the place that he was certain the glass was in. He had counted his steps on the way to the closet, and on the way back, subtracted one step in case he walked differently from and to there. He kneeled down in front of the glass, and began to timidly put his hands gently to the floor, finding a large pile of glass poking at his touch. Castiel gingerly picked up the larger pieces of glass, and placed them into the garbage can. He shakily took the broom and began to sweep up the smaller pieces of glass into the dustpan. It was difficult for him to keep steady as he sat, hunched up on his knees and frightened of getting himself hurt.

Eventually, when he was sure that he had gotten all the glass, Castiel put all the things that he had gathered back into the kitchen. When he was done, his stomach growled, as if signaling his hunger, and reminding him to get some food while he was in here.

Castiel found the fridge easily enough, and pulled the handle. The tough part was actually distinguishing what food was what and going through a series of smell tests and even light taste tests to figure it out. Not to mention, knowing his brother, he was sure he was going to come across something that had gone bad.

He decided that he would deal with the risky food later though, and settled on grabbing a jug of milk, and placing it on the kitchen table. After searching with his hands as his eyes, he found a bag of cereal lying on the counter.

Finding the appropriate dishes and silverware was the hard part. Being at a new person's home and trying to find what dishes were where was hard enough as it was, but being blind and doing this was even more hard. He had the risk of accidentally pulling out a dish too, and he really didn't want to break another glass item of Gabriel's.

After the second cupboard, Castiel was able to find a glass bowl, and in the third drawer he found the silverware. He carried the bowl and the spoon over to the table, setting them down beside the food. Castiel lifted the box, opened it, and searched for the opening of the bag. It could have been closed, but by how light the box was, he had guessed it had already been opened. It had been. He poured the cereal into the bowl slowly, stopping several times to test whether or not he still needed to keep pouring.

The milk was the more difficult task. As he poured the nearly empty jug of milk, he placed his finger at the edge of the bowl, and waited until it reached an okay level before putting the milk away.

All of that for a bowl of cereal. And he wasn't even sure what kind of cereal it was.

Lucky Charms of course. Gabriel was a huge sweet tooth so it really was no big surprise. Castiel ate in silence, thinking about nothing at all. It was nice to be alone every once and awhile. He wasn't sure when the last time he had been left completely alone without worrying about someone interrupting his silence. It was quite nice.

When he was finished eating, Castiel decided to go into the family room to go listen to the television. He walked in there, and found out that he was watching Sesame Street. He wasn't sure how the television had gone from Futurama to Sesame Street, but he didn't ponder on it too much as he searched for the remote. He searched slowly with his hands, roaming them over the smooth surface of the wooden coffee table before he found something. A controller for a video game counsel. Why was he not surprised?

Castiel at last found the remote, though discovered that it would be difficult for him to function it since the buttons did not have braille. Of course they didn't. However most remotes were pretty similar in style as to where their buttons were located. There was the big circle in the middle of the remote, usually indicating the “Ok” or “Select” button. Around it were four separate buttons surrounding it, forming a circle around the middle button, and he figured they were arrows to use to search through the guide.

Then there were two long ovals curving along both sides of these middle pieces. Both had a raised indent of a positive (+) sign and on the other end a negative (-) sign. Of course, these must be the channel and volume buttons. The only annoying part would be for him to figure out which was which. He tried the right one first, as the channel button was usually on the right. When he didn't hear the channel change, he tried the left button and was surprised to learn that the left button was the channel button. It was a bit odd, since he knew from experience that the channel button would normally be found on the right side.

Oh well. Castiel scanned through the channels with his ears only, passing through the children's television shows and past the religious programs, news, and the marketing channels. He stopped on the History channel, hearing the familiar narrator speak about the Ancient Roman times in detail.

It was peaceful to just sit back against the couch listening to the narrator speak of how the Romans were one of the first to develop a sewer system, and how complex their architecture was. It was nice to just relax in general.

After a good hour of listening though, he got a little restless. Castiel stood up again, and decided to explore the small house. Gabriel had given him what he called the _grand tour_ yesterday, still though, he was quite curious about the details of the house. More than the layout of the house, he decided he wanted to get to know it better since this might be his home now. He didn't use the term home lightly either.

Castiel feels his way on the wooden floors, lightly stepping forward. He was glad that Gabriel had cleared the floor for him, so he wasn't constantly worried about tripping over a pillow or stepping on a lego. (He had no doubt that Gabriel owned such toys).

He reaches the walls that lead to the hallway, and makes his way to the first door on the left. Castiel opens the door lightly. The room has a stale smell to it. Almost like that smell when one discovers old clothes that had been shoved into the back of the closet for two seasons straight. That stuffy smell drifted heavily from the room. He figured that this was the “storage room” that he would be getting once it was cleared out.

He didn't bother going in, knowing that if Gabriel had a room like that, that he would certainly be tripping all over the place. He continued down the hall, finding another door on the left side. Quietly, he opens that door. Castiel freezes as he hears something shuffle on what sound like bedsheets. He nearly freaks out as he hears two soft thuds on the wooden floor, along with the light sound of something hard clicking on them. He backs up, and something that feels much like a cord underneath his feet, and then hears scampering then a yelp.

Suddenly, he's on the floor, completely dizzy and totally confused as to what happened. He hears a hiss from a little ways down the hall, before he hears the tentative footsteps make their way to him. He reaches out, and feels the soft touch of fur upon his fingertips, and feels the head rubbing into his open palm. Castiel feels triangle shaped ears and is now certain that it must be a cat. Gabriel hadn't mentioned that he owned a cat.

Castiel was more than surprised when the cat came closer to him, then actually climbed onto his lap. He cautiously petted the cat's head and top part of its back. He knew that cats could be very sensitive on their back or stomachs, and that one should not pet a cat in those areas. He hadn't ever held a cat before though, it was more of knowledge he had earned from reading books.

When the cat started purring, he could feel himself relax. He was sitting in the middle of the hall, his back against the wall, across from Gabriel's room. He knew that the door leading to the bathroom was right beside him. He endured this comfortable feeling of satisfaction that flooded his heart. It didn't matter if he felt a little ridiculous right now.

After awhile though, the cat abruptly pulled away from his hands, and jumped off his lap and seemed dauntless as it walk away from him. He sighed as he gathered himself to stand up. He felt a little light headed as he stood in front of Gabriel's bedroom, and finally decided that he wasn't going to be nosy. He shut the door silently, and turned toward the bathroom.

It was small, yet practical. Castiel decided within a few seconds of being in the bathroom, that he wanted to take a shower. It really seemed like a good way for him to clear his head. He was still a bit unclear and muddled on the whole “Hey, I'm actually out,” thing, and it was bothering him. A steaming shower would help him yank himself into reality.

The shower was difficult to figure out, but he finally figured it out after a few minutes of adjusting the two knobs. He felt around to make sure that there was a towel somewhere. Castiel was relieved to feel a fluffy towel on a hook screwed onto the door. He fumbled in order to lock the door, then stripped.

He entered the shower and was relieved as soon as he felt the hot water massage the tense muscles in his back. He let his head fall back as he reveled in the sweet comfort of the steamy atmosphere. A place where he could escape. Somewhere he didn't need to constantly worry about his blindness, about his troubles. Most of those troubles were gone now, granted, still though, he had those worries. He was very hazy on his future, yet the peaceful qualities of the shower seemed to part the haze like the Red Sea, and was showing him the road that he was to take.

Castiel did have to search for a bottle of shampoo. He found two bottles, and was glad that Gabriel still got that brand where the shampoo would strand upright, while you were supposed to place the conditioner bottles upside down. It had always been helpful to him when he was younger, and it still was. He lathered his wet hair in the suds of the shampoo, feeling the plush tufts of hair with it. As soon as he rinsed it out, he poured conditioner in his hand and let the satin liquid flow its way into his silky hair. He left it on as he searched for a bar of soap.

He lightly scrubbed the bar of soap along his body, from his chest to his toes, forming froth along his skin. He washed the soap from his body, then flushed the conditioner thoroughly out of his hair.

Castiel walked out of the bathroom with the clothes he was borrowing on, and drying his hair with the towel he had used to dry the rest of him off. He felt the tension that had been leeching off of him fall away from his body. The shower had made him feel anew, refreshed and more misleadingly confident in his life. In the choices he would make within the future.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title from "If Everyone Cared" by Nickelback. This is like the only decent song from them. Along with maybe one other song.


	6. To Hear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel meets the neighbors down the "hall", Charlie and Jo. Life finally seems to be a bit manageable, and it almost seems like he's not dreaming. That is until he is ripped back into reality by a threatening note.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Threat.
> 
> Hey, giving this to you guys early, since I fucked up the last two weeks. Almost forgot. I hope you all enjoy! NEXT CHAPTER DEAN FINALLY COMES INTO PLAY YAS!

****

“Her name is Lana.” Gabriel told him, as he cleaned the blood off of Castiel's foot. Castiel had ultimately stepped on a shard of glass just before Gabriel had gotten home off work. Before that, Castiel had struggled with the microwave, had to answer the phone, and had tripped over the cat who ran in front of his feet before he could register what the cat was doing.

The cat's name was Lana, she was very affectionate and sweet, but she could get pretty wild quick. “I've noticed.” Castiel murmured after Gabriel explained this to him. He hissed as he felt a burning pain in his foot. “You could have warned me.” Castiel moaned. He hated hydrogen peroxide being put onto his cuts.

“You would have been a baby about it.” Gabriel said, “We need to make sure you didn't infect or some shit.” He could smell the faintest trace of the liquid, it smelled lightly of vinegar. Not nearly as strong though. Castiel pouted as he heard Gabriel tear off gauze, and squirmed a little as he wrapped it around his foot.

“How big is the cut?” He asked, curious about how large it was, though not wanting to touch it himself. One, it would hurt. And two, it was just unsanitary and he really didn't want to feel his own cut.

He felt Gabriel tape the gauze into place now. “Not too bad. You gotta be careful though Cas.”

“I'm sorry. I'm not even sure what I broke to be honest.”

“Oh, it was nothing. Just some jar I had laying around. Got it at a free yard sale. It looked pretty neat is all. But I never really used it so it's no big deal.”

“I am still sorry.”

“Shut up you big baby.” Gabriel said with a light laugh, “Anyways, I'm done with the bandaging. It'll hurt to walk on your left foot for awhile, so be careful. Hey, don't give me that look.” Castiel sighed, slightly irritated by his brother. Though, it was more of a playing around kind of bickering that they used to get into as kids. “What should we have for dinner?”

Castiel drew his eyebrows closer together as he thought about it, before realizing he didn't really have a clue as to what time it was, “Well, what time is it Gabriel?”

“It's,” A pause here, Gabriel was probably looking at his phone, “Three forty-seven. I usually get home earlier, but we were kind of tied up on a few orders at the shop. And then I had to clean up after you.” Gabriel teased lightly, his voice upbeat.

Castiel was sitting in a chair in the kitchen, and Gabriel had been sitting across from him. He could hear Gabriel standing up now, and listened as his brother padded across the tiled floor. “I suppose I will eat whatever you want to eat.” Castiel replied.

“I remember you always used to say that. Come on man, what do you wanna eat? Seriously, I'll get it later tonight. Think on it a little at least?”

He found it strange that his brother was so determined to treat him to something that he would prefer to eat. Castiel understood how his brother worked though, and had been expecting it a bit though, so he wasn't shocked. He figured he could try to think about what he wanted to ear later tonight though.

Castiel startled as he heard a knock at the front door. He turned his head toward the family room, then back at Gabriel. He listened as Gabriel sighed and walked out of the kitchen and to the front door. Castiel sat stiffly as he listened closely to his brother. He wondered for a second if maybe it was Lucifer, or maybe one of his “friends”. He shuddered as he thought about being torn from here already. But no, surely even Lucifer knew that he would need much more time than a single day, right?

He heard two women's voices drift from the front door.

Voices were strange. They were all so various and strange. His mother must have had a voice that flowed like a smooth stream of crystal water. His father had the gruff voice of disappointment littering upon it. Michael had a confident, modulated voice, sure of himself and set in stone. On the other hand, Lucifer had a grating voice, loud and nasally. Zachariah had an adenoidal voice. Everything he said sounded as if he was having trouble speaking through his mouth, and rather spoke through his nose. Naomi had a voice that was honeyed over, too sweet to be the real deal, deceiving. Hearing Gabriel's voice again reminded him of how it had always been as loud and clear as a church bell ringing on a Sunday morning. Meanwhile, Anna had always had was silvery voice, that had always held true to her personality.

“Gabriel!” One of the woman exclaimed. The gears in Castiel's mind whirred as he listened to the voice, processing it and labeling it. It was childish, and the woman had a bit of a singsong aspect in her voice.

The other woman spoke, “Hey Gabe, so we were just going to stop by. . .” Another booming voice. It reminded Castiel of Micahel in the sense that it was very confident and matter-of-fact. While it was loud, it was also very lively, played like an excited wind instrument.

“You guys gotta stop just dropping by. You gotta tell me before.” Gabriel explained in a hushed voice, sounding a bit annoyed.

There was silence for a split second before there was talking again, “Wait, do you have someone over or something?” Asked the singsong voice.

“Yeah, actually, I do.” Gabriel retorted.

“You mean you have other friends than us?!” Exclaimed the lively woman. She seemed to be mocking Gabriel by sounding so surprised.

Castiel smiled as he heard Gabriel's exasperated sigh, “Girls, I have my brother over. Castiel, not Micahel or Lucifer, so don't go battle screaming please. For the love of God, don't give me those looks!”

“You mean baby brother Castiel!?” One of them asked, seeming excited that he was there. Castiel shifted uncomfortably in his seat, glad that where he was in kitchen was out of sight from the front door. He wanted to get up and sneak away, but he didn't really want to hop around on one foot and attract attention to himself.

“Can we meet him? Oh my gosh, you have to let us Gabriel. You talk about Cassie-poo and Anna-Banana all the time! Well, actually you've always avoided talking about them, but once you get started we cannot shut you up.” This was the woman with the singsong voice, seeming to get way too excited by this point.

“You two are absolute idiots-” Gabriel was interrupted with what sounded like a shove, and the two pairs of footsteps entered the house. “Come on, leave him alone. He only just got here yesterday!”

“Too late,” Announced the booming voice, getting closer to Castiel, “We gotta at least meet him!”

Castiel held his breath as the footsteps entered the room. They were to the left of him, as he knew that the chair he was sitting on was faced away from the table since Gabriel had taken care of his cut up foot. He felt silly sitting there, turning his head toward where he guessed the women and Gabriel were standing. He was wearing an oversized T-shirt and Gabriel's sweatpants that really were to small for him.

He could hear Gabriel's defeated voice breeze into the room, “Castiel, Jo is to your left, and Charlie is to your right. Good luck.”

“Oh my gosh!” The lively voice said from the left, so that must be Jo, “You never told me he was handsome.”

Jo yelped after Castiel heard a soft thud, “Jo.” He could hear the other woman warn. It must be Charlie. Right, Charlie and Jo were dating.

“Hey, I can totally look and not touch.” Jo replied, “Uhm yeah, but like Gabriel said, I'm Jo and this is my girlfriend Charlie. Sorry for the uh, weirdness. We live down the hall though. We're awesome neighbors.”

“Yeah if you ever want to chill you know where to go.” Charlie now said, her happiness alight with her voice, “It's awesome to finally meet you Castiel.”

Castiel smiled politely, “It's nice to meet you two as well. I hope that you don't cause Gabriel too much trouble.”

He had never thought about his own appearance nor his own voice. Both women seemed taken aback by his voice. In truth, it was very guttural. He remembered that even Gabriel had been a bit surprised with his voice, and last night he had mentioned that puberty had been god for him.

He heard Jo cough to break the shocked silence, “Anyways, I think Gabe is gonna smack us, so we'll be going. I hope we can all meet again. Maybe we could take you to the Roadhouse sometime?” She spoke with a questioning manner. Castiel could tell she was looking at Gabriel for approval.

“It's up to Castiel.” Gabriel said casually. His voice was a little tight with concern, though Castiel was amazed to find that Gabriel trusted him enough to allow him to make his own decisions.

“Awesome, anyways, we needa' get going. See ya'll soon.” Charlie sang out merrily.

The women left the apartment and all was silent again. Castiel waited until Gabriel was done showing them out, and came back into the kitchen. “If you thought they were bad, wait until you meet the rest of my friends.” Gabriel muttered with a chuckle.

Castiel let out a grin, “I thought they were kind. Silly, but kind.”

“Heh. Yeah. For the most part.”

For dinner that night, Castiel had settled on spaghetti. After Gabriel had cleared out the stoarage room, he had started on dinner. Granted, Gabriel did not make it as well as Anna had, however the food gave them both good memories of happier times. Well, happy to a point. Until Michael and Lucifer lashed out at each other across the table.

Gabriel had made spaghetti and garlic bread. It was pretty good, and Castielw as honestly surprised that Gabriel was such a good cook.

“I work in a bakery man, of course I have gotten better.” Gabriel replied when Castiel had asked. He felt a little stupid for asking, “Ya know, I'm going to teach you how to cook too. I've actually talked to some people who help blind people be able to live on their own. I did it years ago, because I kept thinking maybe I could go back and get you, or you would someday show up out of the blue. Never happened obviously, but I thought about it a lot. . .”

Castiel was astonished to learn that Gabriel had kept thinking about him throughout all these years, and that he had even gone to the lengths of searching for ways for Castiel to become independent. He smiled as he twirled his fork in his spaghetti, wrapping the delicious noodles around the silverware.

“Yeah but, there's this program I guess. I think they are still around. There's a little center around here someplace. But if you wanted to, I could take you there later. They pretty much educate people with disabilities how to go about daily life without relying on other people.” Gabriel said lowly, scraping his own fork against the glass plate. His nervous voice indicated that he was hesitant to share this information with him. Castiel thought that it must have been over fear or embarrassment rather than on selfishness.

“I would love to go there.” Castiel confirmed, and was happy to hear a small breath of relief from his brother, “It sounds like a very helpful program.” He added, thinking about how much easier life could be if he didn't need to constantly worry about needing someone else telling him if he was doing everything alright.

“Great!” Gabriel blurted out, elation rising in his voice.

It was only the second day of living with Gabriel, and already he felt happier than he had since he was a little kid. He felt more confident and prepared for the future now. Most of all, he didn't feel like a totally unhelpful brat.

A week had passed. Gabriel was arranging Castiel's first class at the program, and as excited as he was, he was also nervous. He was excited because he was going to get a chance to become independent for the first time in his life, and he would meet people who were like him and understood him. At the same time, he was nervous. He was scared of failing and actually meeting these people and finding out that he was alone in this boat.

The weather was getting colder. It was mid-November now, and whatever heat that lay in the previous months was gone now. The coolness of fall was quickly taking the heat's place. Luckily Gabriel had bought Castiel a cane so he wasn't at complete loss. They also went to the store to buy him some new clothing. Gabriel told him that he bought a couple pairs of blacks slacks, and some jeans. White dress shirts, plain T-shirts with solid colors, and some boring sweaters. However, Castiel knew that Gabriel must have bought him at least one ugly Christmas sweater. He now had a pair of black dress shoes and some tennis shoes. Gabriel also bought him a simple trench coat, tan in color, long and warm. He liked the coat the most.

Castiel's room was also all set up for him now. He had discovered that he had queen sized bed, a desk, and a bookshelf right by it. Gabriel had a few braille books that he had found at stores and had saved for Castiel in case he ever came around. The little collection he had was nothing compared his books back at Zachariah's, however he knew for now that it would do. At the desk, he had an old radio that he could play if he got bored. Gabriel offered to buy him a laptop or at least one of those new tablets with braille, but Castiel refused to allow him to get him one. If he really wanted one, he decided, he would earn money to get himself those things himself.

Twirling his cane with his hand now, he stood anxiously at the door of Gabriel's bedroom, where he could hear his brother typing furiously away on his laptop. “I am going out.” Castiel said with a slight quaver in his voice after a few moments.

He heard Gabriel jumped a little and take a sharp breath in, and was entertained by the thought that he had just startled his brother. “Yeah? Alright, just stay close and be careful. You got your phone on you?”

Gabriel always fretted over Castiel. When he had refused to take a cellphone, Gabriel got upset and kept insisting, declaring that if he were ever lost that a cell phone was practically necessary so he could call him. The phone was nice. When he turned it on, it was programmed to read everything on the screen aloud, and it was only set on voice command.

He checked the pocket of his coat, nodding when he felt the phone in his pocket, “I got it Gabe. I'm just going to take a walk around the neighborhood, I would like to know it better if I live here.”

“I know. Alright, get lost Castiel. I'd like you to not take the literally. It's just an expression.” Gabriel said with a chuckle.

Castiel smiled, just shaking his head as he turned away and maneuvered his way through the small house much better now. He made his way to the front door and opened it. A cool breeze snaked into the apartment, before he stepped through the doorway carefully and shut the door behind him. The air outside was fresh, though the coldness of it bit at his skin. The apartments all led outside, and the rows of apartments would face each other with only a wide sidewalk in between them. The Trans lived on the right of them, while Charlie and Jo lived a few apartments down the “hall”. Really it was a walkway, but Castiel was not going to say anything about it.

The walkway led to the houses and to the exit out of the apartment complex. He followed it until he reached the busy street that the complex sat along. Feeling out with his cane, Castiel turned carefully to the right, and walked forward down the sidewalk. When he felt the sidewalk slope down, he backed up carefully and felt for a pole with a button on it.

It was a blessing that the street lights in this city beeped when it was a pedestrian's turn to walk, and he wondered if this was a factor that Gabriel had taken in when he had moved here, or if it was just a lucky coincidence.

He cautiously walked across the street, reaching out in front of him with his cane. Often times, streets and sidewalks would have an unexpected crack along them which he could trip on, or there could be a small object in the way. He had even tripped over a plastic bag once.

It was terrifying yet thrilling to walk around the neighborhood on his own. The streets were busy with the sounds of revving engines, honking, people chatting, and the streets had the heavy stench of gas, greasy foods, and a hint of dirt. Castiel avoided tripping over an uneven risen part of the sidewalk when his cane abruptly hit it.

He could hear a woman and a child to his left. “Why does he have a cane Mommy?” The child asked, the voice light and musical. Castiel could not distinguish whether or not the kid was a girl or a boy, the voice was so young it was hard to tell the difference.

“He's blind honey. Step out of the way. We don't want to get in his way.” The mother responded, her feminine voice fairly normal, though she spoke a bit too loudly. Castiel was glad she was at least polite and honest.

He stopped walking for a moment, and turned toward the mother and child, “Hello,” He said with a friendly smile.

“You're blind mister? You can't see me? Or Mommy?” The child asked.

“Oh I'm sorry-” The mother started, before Castiel interrupted her.

“It's fine.” Castiel replied, looking down at where he predicted the child was standing. He sat down on his haunches and looked toward the child, and explained, “I am blind. I cannot see you or your mother. However, I can still hear you both.”

“Weird. But how do you aim when you pee?” The child inquired with a sense of awe lacing their voice. Well, him. Castiel decided the kid was definitely a boy.

“Cole!” The child's mother scolded, “Don't ask the man that.”

Castiel chuckled at the question. It certainly was a new question about his blindness. He stood back up, and smiled toward the mother. “Have a good day.” He said.

“Yes, I'm sorry about my son. Cole can get carried away. . .”

“He was curious. His question was new and a bit refreshing. It's alright ma'm.” Castiel explained with a smile. It seemed to relieve the mother of any anger, as she chuckled a little bit, then took off with her son moments later.

Castiel walked around a bit more before deciding to retrace those careful steps, and head back to the apartment that he lived in. The only helpful thing about the apartments, was that the plaques by the door, which had numbers on it, also had the braille numbers underneath other other ones. He traced his fingers along the numbers until he got to the apartment that Gabriel lived in. Well, Castiel supposed, now he lived here too.

However, there was a piece of paper taped onto the plaque, and Castiel took it off, thinking it was a flier of some sort before he felt bumps on the paper.

 

 

_Remember, I am watching. Get the information I need, Cassie-poo. -L_

 

Castiel felt shaken up. It had only been a week. Did Lucifer already expect him to have information on this guy? He wondered how the hell he was going to be able to get any information on this guy, not to mention actually meet with him and speak to him. What if he wanted to kill Lucifer, and he killed Castiel instead? He was terrified when it came to the deal. He had absolutely no idea what to expect.

He took a deep breath in, as he folded up the note and stuffed it into his trench coat's large pocket, and entered the house.

“Castiel!” He heard a woman exclaim. He was startled when he felt arms wrap around him. Oh, it was Charlie, his befuddled mind registered a bit late.

“Uhm, Charlie. Hello.” He said awkwardly as he was hugged tightly. He would have attempted to hug back, however Charlie was hugging his arms along with the rest of his torso.

He could hear Gabriel cursing up a storm, and Jo lecturing him in the background, “Did you have a nice walk?” Charlie asked enthusiastically, finally letting Castiel go and backing up.

“Yes, I guess I did.” Castiel replied back, smiling faintly. “Why are you and Jo here, if I might ask.”

He could hear Charlie snort, “Sneak attack on Gabriel. We were hoping that you and Gabriel could come with us to the Roadhouse to hang out.”

Jo said from across the room in her booming voice, “Yeah, but supposedly he has work on a Tuesday morning! What a loser. How about you Cassie? Wanna come with?”

“But he's eighteen. Isn't the Roadhouse practically a bar?” Gabriel asked bitterly, walking forward towards Castiel and the women.

Jo seemed upset by that response, “Not really. I mean the Roadhouse is really a restaurant. Plus my mom will be there, she wouldn't let him drink. Well not too much anyways.”

Castiel was a bit confused on the whole topic since he hadn't really been let into the conversation yet. He was grateful when Gabriel sighed and replied, “Still . . . Alright fine, but it's really up to Castiel.”

Charlie was up in his face again. He could smell her fruity strawberry perfume. “Okay, Cassie, do you want to come? We don't exactly want to be abducted for kidnapping you or anything.” He could hear Jo laugh lightly in the background.

“I guess I would not mind going with you two to the Roadhouse.” He said flatly. He would admit he was a bit curious about this Roadhouse. It seemed like it was Gabriel's hangout place with his friends, and he wanted to meet them. However, he wasn't entirely sure if he was comfortable with going without Gabriel there. Not that he didn't trust Charlie and Jo, they just seemed a little fickle.

Charlie was even closer within a second, so close that he could smell her breath. “You know you don't have to if you don't like.” He wondered if perhaps she was so close to him because she was studying his facial expressions or if she was trying fr a dramatic approach.

“No it's fine,” Castiel decided, breathing fresh air as Charlie moved away, “I would like to go. Are you alright with that Gabe?” He asked cautiously, not wanting to harm his brother's feelings.

Gabriel chuckled as if Castiel was joking, “Dude, of course it's fine. Just don't do anything stupid and have fun.”

Castiel smiled as Charlie and Jo gave whooping yelps of victory, and rushed him out of the house with only hardly cut off goodbyes to Gabriel.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title inspired by "Centuries" by Fall Out Boy.


	7. Know My Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel goes out with the girls to the Roadhouse, where he stumbles upon a laid back, kind of close minded guy, called Dean. He makes a fool of himself after an understanding, yet heavy, aura between him and Dean. 
> 
> Emotions are dealt with between Castiel and Gabriel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Emotions. Feels.
> 
> SORRY! I forgot to add notes yesterday. You're lucky I got around to posting it. I hope you all had a great Turkey Day if you live in America. And if you don't, well, I hope you had great food anyways. One piece of advice I give to you all is . . . do not go on long car rides with babies. It's hell. Anywho, hope you like this chapter. Next one deals with some, erm, drama. Actually writing it right now. I am a little behind since I have had school writing and shit. Hope you like! Please kudos, comment, or bookmark if you want to. (PLEASE IT MAKES ME FEEL BETTER ABOUT WRITING THESE).

The atmosphere of the Roadhouse was a bit unclear to Castiel, as he was dragged into the restaurant by Charlie and Jo. It felt friendly, however at the same time, it felt a bit judgmental. He wasn't sure what to make of it at first.

A gruff, yet appealing woman's voice was calling for Jo, “Jo, get on o'er here! Hello Charlie. Who's this?” The woman asked. She sounded much older than Charlie or Jo, but not too old. Castiel guessed that she was a middle-aged woman.

“This is Castiel, Gabriel's brother. Castiel this is Ellen, my ma'.” Jo introduced the two, sounding pretty delighted.

Castiel smiled as politely as he could as he faced the direction he was sure that Ellen was standing. “It's nice to meet you ma'm.” He remarked in a courteous manner.

He could hear Ellen let out a throaty laugh, “You too Castiel. Watch our for your brother, a tricky one he is. Why don't you all go sit at the bar and I'll serve you some drinks. Light ones. Don't worry, it won't kill ya Castiel.”

Castiel followed after Ellen's footsteps on the wooden floorboards without either Charlie's or Jo's assistance, instead using his cane to navigate his way through the Roadhouse. He was comforted by the simplicity of the structure of the restaurant, at how predictable everything was laid out.

Jo say in between Castiel and Charlie. Castiel was on her left, and Charlie on her right. Castiel listened without a word as she and Charlie exchanged enthusiastic words about some shopping trip they were going on that weekend. Honestly, Castiel hated to say it, but he really felt uncomfortable. Not because he was on some outing with a lesbian couple at a bar/restaurant, but because he was a total third wheel on this trip. He hadn't really thought it over.

He had never really had a problem with homosexuals. He knew that Zachariah, Naomi, and Michael definitely did. They were very vocal on gay and lesbian couples, loudly bashing them and cursing them to go burn in the deepest pits of hell. He had always been bothered by their vivid hatred with homosexuals. Personally, he had never really pondered too much on his own sexuality. He didn't really care much about the sex of a person. Not just because he was blind either, even if he had vision, he was sure that he wouldn't care much for an individual's appearance or genitals.

“Hey Castiel,” Castiel was snapped out of wandering thoughts by Charlie's voice, “Uhm, we gotta use the lady's room, so do you mind staying here and watching our drinks? Shit- I mean, do you mind just making sure nobody comes over here and takes them or roofie them?”

Castiel chuckled lowly, “Of course.” He didn't say anything else, he hadn't the chance since both girls were rushing away to the bathroom. He knew that they would take awhile in there, since they were obviously going to take awhile _using the restroom_. He smiled when thinking about both of their fondness for each other. Even if he couldn't see the way they looked into each other's eyes, it was obvious through other factors how they felt for each other. Their voices would change when they spoke to each other, all dreamy and sweet, and what they spoke about with each other.

Castiel reached over for one of their drinks, curious as to how they would taste. Ellen had never brought him a drink in the end, most likely not wanting to risk her hide to Gabriel. He sipped at the drink and was surprised to find that the sweetness of the drink masked up most of the bitter flavors that lie underneath it.

He was alarmed when he felt someone sit beside him on his left. He detected the light drift of musky smell of leather, alcohol, and shaving cream. He quickly twisted his body around until he was seemingly looking at the person who had decided to sit beside him. “Hello?” He said a little questionably, a bit uncertain as to whether the person would like to speak to him at all.

“That's a pretty girly drink.” Was the first thing Castiel heard from this person. A man, sounding a bit older than him. He had a gruff voice, low and deep, a bit raspy. The voice gave Castiel the impression of one of those tough men he heard on television, the ones girls would fan girl over because of their smoky voices.

“Excuse me?” He replied, not quite understanding what this man was implying.

He heard the man shift, and could tell that he was now looking at him. He wondered quietly how long it would take for him to figure it out, “I said that's a girly drink.”

“Right. . . How so?” Castiel inquired, truthfully speaking, he was a bit curious why this stranger would suddenly sit beside him to say such a thing.

The man was quiet for a moment before emphasizing, “Well, I mean, _look_ at it. Even the color of the damn drink is girly. How could you not notice that?”

Castiel frowned a little at that statement. “I wouldn't be able to see what color the drink is.” He tried to explain carefully.

“What do you- Oh- Shit. . .” He could finally hear the pieces fitting together in the stranger's mind.

Castiel offered a small smile to the man, “It's fine.”

“No dude, I'm sorry. I didn't even know.”

He could tell that the man was truly sorry, and was touched by the panic in his voice. He had almost thought that the man knew that he was blind, and was just coming over to mess with him. He was very glad that the man hadn't known. “That is fine.” He attempted to convince the man.

“Well, hey there. I'm Dean the Dumb-assed Doofus. You?” The man joked after a moment of silence. Castiel figured that he was quietly cursing himself.

He chuckled lightly at that line, “Hello, I am Castiel the Clumsy Coward.”

Both men were silent until Dean finally repeated his question, it was, after all, the only reason he had come over to Castiel and began to talk to him in the first place. “But really, that drink is pretty girly man.”

“Yes, but it is quite tasty.” Castiel rebuffed. Admittedly, he might have thought so since he shared the sweet-tooth trait with his brother.

Dean seemed a little frustrated by this response, and Castiel could tell that the man was also getting agitated. “Still. . .” Castiel heard Dean huff out sourly.

Castiel thought it over, and decided to offer his drink to the man. “Would you like to try it? Or should I dare you to drink it?” He challenged, clearly mocking Dean's macho-act and his masculinity while he was at it.

“Only if you try out this more manly drink.” Dean retorted proudly, his voice confident, just on the edge of cocky.

Castiel smiled at the challenge, “I'm sure if you can, then I can as well.” he merely stated, sounding and feeling more bold than he had in a long time.

He listened as Dean let out a husky and deep laugh at what Castiel had said. Castiel slid his drink (well, really it was Jo's. But she didn't need to know that) over to Dean, and he could hear the scrape of glass against marble as Dean slid his own glass over to him.

Castiel carefully picked up the glass he was given, and brought it up to his lips. The liquid inside flowed quickly onto his tongue, searing the sharp, bitter taste down along the rest of his tongue and to his throat. The bitterness of the drink burned his throat raw. Castiel was a bit embarrassed when he coughed from the harsh liquid was too much for him to handle.

He could hear Dean mutter something after his coughing fit was done and over with. “What?” He asked wheezily.

“Uhm. . . Oh.” Dean murmured again, only a tad louder now.

“Yes?” Castiel asked teasingly.

Dean cleared his throat loudly, shifting in his seat as he finally built up the courage to say to Castiel, “Yeah. You're right. That was pretty damn good.” He could hear Dean squirm on his bar stool, causing the squeaky sound of the rubber of the seat.

“Your drink. . . burned.” Castiel admitted, frowning as the sour taste of the alcohol lingered in his mouth.

Dean huffed out a breath of laughter, “Yup. It does that. Nobody drinks the shit for the taste I guess.”

Castiel thought that over, “Well I don't like it. Why else would one drink this liquor if not for its taste though?” He asked, feeling a bit ignorant on the whole thing, regretting the words as soon as they clamored out of his mouth.

All was quiet for a moment. It was a casual silence, but thoughts hung heavily in the air. Castiel could tell that Dean was lost in his thoughts, his memories. “People drink it to forget.” He finally said, his voice hushed and a little croaky. It seemed as if he spoke that thought any louder, his words would be choked up.

Castiel could feel this massive energy overcast itself over the two of them. It just sat there, settling itself between the two. Castiel couldn't tell whether it came from him or Dean, or if perhaps, they were sharing this atmosphere. Castiel could always detect sounds, smells, but he was never in tune with his own emotions, not to mention another person's. He wished that he could see the expressions on Dean's face, to understand. It felt like something had clicked between Castiel and this man. It was like the click of a key releasing a lock.

The moment of those deep thoughts and epiphanies, was suddenly shattered into shards of reflection when Charlie and Jo returned to the bar laughing hysterically over something. Beside him, he could hear Dean startle out of his own sea of drowned out thoughts, and the atmosphere changed from the profound thoughts, and the mood changed from darkness to light, and sadness into a braving happiness, so quickly that Castiel felt left behind in the midst of it all.

“Dean! So you've met Castiel huh? He's Gabriel's little brother. You know, the one he would never shut up about?” Jo announced much too loudly, giggling in between words. Castiel imagined that she was hanging onto Charlie by the sound of them, both giggling breathlessly.

“Yup, I met Cas. Nice to know he's that asshole's brother.” He nudged Castiel lightly as if to indicate he was only joking, “So you guys came here and then ditched Castiel just to make out? That's a new low. Even for you.” Dean stated, acting offended for Castiel, in a joking manner of course. Castiel was still trying to catch up with the sudden change of mood. He wondered vaguely how Dean did it. . . but then again, maybe there was nothing and he had just imagined it.

“Oh come on, you make us sound so terrible!” Charlie whined after a fit of laughter.

Jo backed Charlie up, “Will you ever forgive us Cassie? We'll pay you with a Delightful Dean!” She sounded as if she was advertising Dean as some kind of merchandise. It was odd.

Castiel remained silent, allowing a small smile of amusement to play itself onto his face as he observed the trio bark nonsense bickering at one another.

“Don't objectify me!” Dean shouted.

“I'll objectify you as much as I want. For you are simply a silly little present that I will send to Castiel. Hell, let's make it a nutcracker!” He heard a disgruntled noise from Dean and a yelp from Charlie, “I could just wrap you up Deanie Weenie! Tape a little bow onto your forehead!”

Charlie butted into the conversation now, “Is that all we are to you Jo? Just objects to send to people as apology gifts?”

“Awh come on. You two suck. You can't both work against me,” Jo grumbled, “You two are twisting me into some kind of horrifying, selfish monster. How dare you!”

Dean moaned out, clearly irritated, “Dude, you literally said, and I quote, 'you are simple a silly little present'.”

“No, no! I meant just _you_! Not Charlie.” Jo retaliated grumpily.

“Geez, thanks.” Dean muttered.

“Too late Jo!” Charlie said melodramatically, “It's over! I'm done. Goodbye world- Wait, nope just kidding. I think I might have gone straight for Castiel over there. Adios!” Castiel was suddenly grabbed by the arm by Charlie, and was dragged off his stool. He clumsily scrambled behind her aimlessly.

“Oh Charlie! Don't be like that! We could make this work baby!” Jo mocked from behind, “Come back you giant geek!”

Castiel felt Jo grab his other arm and his world froze as his thoughts raced back to the time that Michael and Lucifer grabbing him and playing tug of war with him, until he tumbled down the stairs. As if he were a child's toy. He immediately yanked both his arms away from the girls, and kept them close to his sides, nearly falling backwards with his floundering.

He could tell that he was being stared at. It was no surprise. After all, the quiet blind kid had just violently tore his arms away from two women who had just been messing around, and now he was panting loudly from the fear that had swelled in his chest. He was pretty sure that he was on the verge of a panic attack at this point too.

“Hey, you alright bud?” Dean was the first to split the silence, moving closer until he was right in front of him. Castiel couldn't help himself from wondering just how close was close, and wondering how Dean would look from this close up. He felt humiliated. Of course Charlie and Jo weren't going to harm him. He nodded pathetically.

“Shit, that was our fault Castiel.” Charlie said, “We should have been more cautious. Kinda forgot that Gabriel had told us that you might be uncomfortable with sudden touching and that you like your personal space and all.”

He nodded again, hoarsely and faintly murmuring, “I apologize for my reaction.”

“It's fine Cas,” Dean said cheerfully, “Anyways, I gotta get going man. My brother is probably waiting for me at the library to get picked off, that huge nerd. So I'll have Jo give you my number and you can give me a call later. I'll see you guys.”

With that, Dean was leaving.

Castiel spent the rest of the evening politely talking with the couple, wasting away inside as he he thought about how he had driven Dean away. He came to a revelation to realize that Dean had called him Cas, a nickname he surprisingly hadn't had before. A soft smile came to his face before he realized that he was smiling at all.

Gabriel's home was an anchor for Castiel. In the past week, he had grown much more familiar and comfortable with the apartment. Arriving home at the peaceful environment after a long and wild evening with Charlie, Jo, and Dean, Castiel was relieved to enter the quietness. Charlie and Jo had walked home with him, since the Roadhouse was not too far away from their apartment complex, and since Castiel was certainly not letting them drive home in the manner they were in. Both had quite a lot to drink and were in complete hysteria. Castiel had made sure that Charlie had a ride home and waited until she was picked up. He knew that Charlie and Jo were dating and that both were drunk, though he didn't want either to get hurt or hurt one another.

Castiel sunk into the couch as soon as he got to the apartment. He could hear Gabriel in the small area that allotted for the kitchen area, washing dishes. Glass clinking against one another, pots and pans clanging, and the silverware chiming together in harmony. Though the musical sound of the dishes with the water running as a background noise was loud, Castiel still noticed that Gabriel was singing. He attempted to decipher the song, and was astonished to find that he was singing Barbie Girl.

He laughed lightly as he shoved himself sluggishly off of the couch, and snuck into the kitchen to get a better listen to Gabriel singing. Yep, he was definitely singing Barbie Girl. He cleared his throat loudly, and heard something metallic clamor against the sink, and the sound of chiming silverware followed after.

“Goddammit Castiel!” Gabriel lectured, “You freaking dick. Gosh. Did you just get back?”

“Yes Gabriel. Jo's home and I made sure Charlie got a ride home from her friend. How was your evening?” Castiel asked, just avoiding his own night a tiny bit.

“How do ya' think it was? I just watched TV, played video games, made cheap ass food and yeah, I'm doing dishes now. How 'bout you? Did you have fun with the girls?”

Castiel wondered if he should tell Gabriel what happened. He might as well. After all, Charlie or Jo would tell him and express their concerns for him. “Well, Charlie and Jo left me at the bar on my own for a bit as they used the restroom.” He could hear Gabriel snicker, “A man came up to me at the bar, and we exchanged drinks after he claimed mine was 'girly'. He turned out to be a friend of Jo and Charlie's. Dean?”

“Oh yeah. Cool guy, kind of a mysterious batman type though. And an ass.” Gabriel chimed in.

“I suppose so.” Castiel continued with a smirk, “Anyways, we talked for a bit,” He decided to leave out those weird feelings he had. He was pretty convinced he had been making it up now, “Jo and Charlie returned and those three started messing around and were joking. Well, Charlie grabbed me by the arm and pulled me away from my seat, and Jo came over and grabbed my other arm. . . It just reminded me of a time where Michael and Lucifer did that, and fought over me in a game of tug of war. We had been in the middle of a flight of stairs, and in the process they had let go of me. . . And yeah, I got hurt pretty badly.” He confessed to Gabriel, feeling ashamed of talking about this aloud. “So I freaked out when Charlie and Jo grabbed me. I made everything awkward when everyone had been having fun. Pretty soon after that Dean left and Charlie and Jo got pretty heavy on the alcohol chatting away.”

He wondered what Gabriel was thinking, and was glad when he finally got a verbal response from his brother, “I'm sorry Castiel, I hadn't known about that. Goddamn, they all really fucked you over huh? I mean our family. I warned the girls not to touch you too much, not only for the whole blind thing, but also because of that. I don't know to what extent you were hurt, but I am so fucking sorry.”

“There is no need to apologize Gabri-” Castiel started before he was interrupted.

“No, Castiel, there is. Because I screwed up. I left you and Anna in the hands of those monsters. I was scared, I was sick of it, and I was selfish. Bottom line. But none of that was an excuse to leave my little sister and baby brother with those assholes. I could have done something for you guys. It's been eating away at me for years, but now, more than ever.” Gabriel confided in Castiel, his voice had been risen at first, and was now quiet, trembling a little bit.

Castiel disliked Gabriel being like this, and greatly wished he could do something to reassure him that it wasn't his fault. Although it was, indeed, Gabriel's fault that Castiel and Anna had been left alone, he wanted him to understand that he hadn't accused him. Like he had said, he was just frightened and wanted out, and he had no steady way to be sure that he was going to make it on his own, not to mention with two kids with him.

“I don't blame you.” Castiel muttered at last, “I am just glad that you hadn't left because of us, and that you still care and love. I am glad that you hadn't turned me away when Lucifer brought me. I understand why you left. I forgive you, and I am grateful to you for being there for me now. You could have just as easily have pushed me out of your life once more.”

A calm lull fell over the two brothers as Castiel's words echoed like drops of water into a lifeless puddle. Castiel leaned in for a hug this time, and was relieved to feel Gabriel cling to him. He didn't say a word, and didn't mention the wetness he felt through his cloth on his right shoulder. He acknowledged all the faint traces of words that he could catch from his brother, but kept completely silent, and kept holding onto Gabriel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is from Centuries by Fall Out Boys. My friend got me addicted to it. Whoops.


	8. Lost Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel isolates himself, Gabriel is worried. Gabriel throws Castiel out of the nest and he takes a walk. He nearly slips and injures himself but is rescued by a kind stranger. . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Isolation, blackmail, bribery, threats, violence, panic, fear, obsession.
> 
> SORRY YOU GUYS!!! I have been swamped. Wanna know why? Because it's that wonderfully jolly time of year that everyone loves... FINALS. Yeah, I'm not even going to be taking them all until after break because I am taking a vacation the week of finals. But, I gotta take my chemistry finals early, and I am terrible in science, so there ya go. Anywho, here is chapter. I was kinda stuck on this because I was like, huh, what should I do? I was stuck between two choices. Maybe I'll mention what my dilemma was in the end notes.

Gliding the tips of his fingers across the grainy paper, cool from being laid down on his wooden end table, he traced over the bumps for the eighth time since he received the note. The taunting threat from those simple raised dots were clear to Castiel. The mocking use of the nickname he had always hated. The blackmail. Find this man or else be returned to your old life, be tortured, be flung onto the street as if he was trash thrown on the side of the road. He would even go to the lengths to hurt Gabriel and Anna as well. He shivered as he let his hand flutter away from the small piece of paper.

Castiel stands up, hearing the creaking of his bed when his weight moves off the bed. He has to find him. He needs Gabriel. And he is slowly realizing that his older brother may need him too. And if that meant he had to find this man and tell him about Lucifer needing him, for whatever reasons or purpose, he would. It shouldn't be all that hard. Except that finding him would be difficult. Whether or not he was blind, it would be pretty hard to find someone if they didn't want to be found.

He wondered why he naturally assumed that this man didn't want to be found. Perhaps it was just an instinct. He doubted that anyone would want to be apart of Lucifer's gang though. Castiel pulled his phone out of the deep pocket of his trench coat, and announced immediately, “Open Google Search.” Before the speaker could even start to read aloud what was on the screen. After a few moments the phone asked, “What would you like to Google?”

He spoke the name aloud for the first time, glad that Gabriel was at work, and hoping that he would be able to find something about him.

Gabriel had bought Castiel a tablet and a stylus made specifically for blind people to use for writing, which he was entirely grateful for. However he wasn't using it to simply write about his day or about a story, but instead to write the distinct details of the man he was looking for. Using his phone as his guide, he found out he lived in California, and was going to a highly expensive college on the top lists. He was about twenty years old, and his mother was deceased. His father wasn't mentioned, and the other only thing he could find was that he only had an older brother, who is unnamed, however wanted a for a crime.

Castiel was tediously writing as much information as he could down when he heard a knock at his door. He startled, as he hadn't realized that it was already time for Gabriel to be home. Bitterly, he asked, “Yes?”

He heard the door squeak open hesitantly, “Hey Cassie, you hungry bro? I picked up some Chinese grub if you want some.”

Castiel let out a long breath but nodded, standing up and pushing away from his desk. He followed Gabriel out of his room after scooting his chair forward to the desk, feeling that there was something off between he and his brother. He walked over to his chair at the small table, sitting down and waited for his bother to serve him. He was still working on doing that on his own, but he was not going to risk that with Chinese food.

“Chow Mein at 11 o'clock, orange chicken at 2 o'clock, rice at 8 o'clock, and beef stir fry at 5 o'clock.” Gabriel addressed as he placed the glass plate before Castiel, handing him a cold fork. Castiel nodded in thanks before digging into the food. He stabbed at the orange chicken first, eating the meat happily, before twisting the Chow Mein around his fork and sticking that into his mouth too.

He stopped eating so ravenously when he realized that there were no scraping noises of fork against glass from Gabriel, nor any slurping or chewing. “What's wrong?” Castiel asked cautiously, lifting his head up in order to face his brother as much as he could.

“I should be asking you the same question. . .” Gabriel said, trailing off before he could say anything else.

Castiel stopped eating all together now, placing his fork down beside his plate, “What do you mean?” He inquired.

“I mean, I'm worried about you man. You've been especially quiet lately. I am still worried about the whole Lucifer bringing you here thing. We haven't even properly discussed it yet.”

“Come on Gabe,” Castiel whine in exasperation, “Chinese food.” He explained, gesturing down to his plate as if that was enough of an excuse not to talk about this right now.

He could practically hear Gabriel shake his head, “Nope. We gotta talk about this. I know Luci better than you do, and I know that he would not go out of his way to help you out. Did he blackmail you or something? Did he threaten you? Does he have _work_ for you?”

Blackmail. Well, that was what Lucifer had done, right? Kind of. Castiel was a bit weary that Gabriel had been so spot on with all his questions, however he shook his head and claimed, “No he didn't Gabriel. I don't understand why you cannot just accept that everything is alright and that I am here and well.”

“Because for the past week you've locked yourself in your room, you've barely spoken to me, and half the time I see you, you're shaking. Like right now, your hand is trembling. You used to shake when you lied as a kid.”

_Castiel had been punched in the arm by Michael. He was only four years old. He hid his tears and tried to keep cool about it. It hurt but he knew that Michael would just punch him again if he said anything about it to Gabriel or Anna. So he kept quiet._

_“Cassie? What's wrong?” The fourteen year old Gabriel asked worriedly, shaking him out of his trance. “Why are you shaking?” Castiel's left arm was shaking. It was the arm that Michael punched. Gabriel must have seen because he pulled up the sleeve and gasped, “Holy shit! Who did this to you? Cas. . .”_

“. . .tiel! Snap out of it man!” Castiel felt shaken up from the sudden flashback he had had. He shook his head to clear it and then turned towards Gabriel, who sounded like he was freaking out.

“Goddammit man. What's going on with you. Please, Castiel, you can talk to me you know this.” Gabriel begged Castiel, now standing and hovering near Castiel, but not going to close to him.

Castiel inhaled deeply, “I-I can't Gabriel.” He whispered breathlessly, his voice trembling. “It'll be okay though. I know what I am doing.” He felt like he was lying through his teeth. He knew _what_ to do, he just didn't know _how_ he would do it. If this man really lived in California, that meant that he would have to travel from Nebraska to California, and he had no idea how he would be able to pull that off on his own. But he had to.

“I knew it.” He heard Gabriel murmur, “Something's up. What can't you tell me?” Gabriel pushed, anxiety lacing his voice.

Castiel bit down on his lower lip. After all, he was at loss on his own, right? Maybe it wouldn't hurt to tell his older bother what was going on-

The sound of shattering glass erupted the silence, and Castiel cried out as he felt shards of glass cut across his face and his arms. He heard Gabriel yell out too, cursing under his breath when the noise was once again gone.

“What the hell!?” Gabriel called out, quickly moving away from Castiel as he went to the window close to the table. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He could hear his brother mutter, “Someone threw a rock in here. . . A big one too.”

He was trembling again. Castiel realized that he knew. That he was watching him. If not him, his “friends” were. They could tell that he was going to crack and then reminded him of what would happen if he spilled his guts to Gabriel. They were reminding him that they had the potential to literally spill out his guts from his body. He could barely hear Gabriel in the background, cussing out the person who had thrown the rock.

Faintly he heard his brother's concerned voice, “Cassie? Hey, Castiel? What's wrong? It's alright man, it was just some asshole.”

Castiel began to shake his head violently, shuddering in fear as he thought about the multiple possibilities all at once, all clashing together with anger and horror. He noticed belatedly that he was chanting, “I'm sorry.” Over and over again, on a robot-like autopilot as he got to his feet and hurriedly walked over to his room, letting Gabriel's distressed questions drift away in the air. He got to the safety of his room, shutting the door and locking it.

He sat against the door, knees pulled up to his chin, his arms tightly circling his legs as he hid his tear-stained face in between his knees.

The sound of a clock ticking kept Castiel awake for hours. Well, that was what he kept saying to himself. It was that damn clock that was keeping him awake. Might as well plug in his ear buds, get on his phone, and find out more about the man he was supposed to look for.

He had locked himself in his room after the rock through the window incident. Gabriel had banged at the door for awhile, though eventually gave up with a defeated, “Sleep well Castiel. I love you. Just. . .goddammit, be alright.”

He had been living with Gabriel for about three weeks now, and he had grown accustomed to his life. But he knew he should stop it. He needed to stop feeling so comfortable and at peace, he had to work for this happiness. He spoke aloud, but quietly, “Lucifer Novak-Milton.” The machine's monotone voice started to speak in through his ear buds.

_Results for Lucifer Novak-Milton. Lucifer Novak-Milton – Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. Lucifer (The Devil) – Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. The Story of Lucifer – Mormon Online. . ._

“Go to Lucifer Novak-Milton – Wikipedia.”

 _Lucifer Novak-Milton, formerly known as simply Lucifer Novak, is the leader of an organization called the_ _Gates of Hell [Wikipedia link to Gates of Hell]. He controls the men in his organization and will make them go through Trials [Wikipedia link to Trials] in order to get into the organization. The Gates of Hell is well known for its violence, often seeming linked to gang violence. Continue onto Biography, Early Life?_

“Go to Gates of Hell.”

_The Gates of Hell is a violent and well hidden organization that is led by Lucifer Novak. It has hundreds of members. While some come to the organization out of their own free will, many are abducted as children or are blackmailed into the group. This organization wishes to bring nothing but chaos. It was originally founded decades ago by a man called Cain, and brought back by Lucifer._

Castiel was upset that he wasn't finding too many details on what kind of violence the group performed. Of course, he knew that they killed people, more than likely for fun than for business. He had known that Lucifer was in this gang like organization, however he hadn't known what the name of it was, as it had always been forbidden to speak about with Zachariah and Naomi around.

He had enough of prying into what his brother had dragged him into, and just hoped that he would be let out of it as soon as he led the man Lucifer was searching for to him. He felt a heavy doubt sinking in his stomach. Lucifer could just as easily give him another task, and threaten him again. He knew that he could. It was terrifying to fully realize how much power his brother had over him.

He wondered how he could dig himself out of it on his own.

“Castiel. . .” Gabriel's voice reached him from behind. It had been another week, and he had dug up some good information on the man he was to find. Gabriel had been sounding tired and worried all week now, but Castiel was glad he wasn't pushing anything anymore. They had to fix the window the next day. Winter being here meant the house had to be as sealed up as possible in order for the two brothers to be able to feel their bones.

“What?” He asked wearily. He had found out that the man's brother was wanted for murder and rape, and that he had been found dead. But there were reports of seeing his brother on surveillance cameras. He had found out that his mother had died when he was just a baby. He read that his father had went MIA when he had went off on his own, and that he had a history of alcohol. He found nothing about details of the man himself. Not what he was studying, what college he went to, where he was from. It was strange, and almost as if someone had wiped his information off of everything. Odder so, he had the man's name, his parents, hell even his grandparents, but not his brother's.

“Castiel, you need to get out of the house.” Gabriel insisted, his voice thin with worry. His brother was tip toeing around him, as if he was walking on eggshells around Castiel. It was annoying, but Castiel did appreciate the effort.

He shrugged though, not saying a word of the matter. He wished that he could make Gabriel see that what he was doing was important, that he had to be as progressive as he could Gabriel and him could be safe. So they could go back to being brothers without that constant dread hanging in the air. He wondered if they had ever been true brothers in that case.

“Castiel, I'm serious.” Gabriel's tone of voice suddenly shifted from anxious to a big brother tone, firm and commanding, “Get off your ass and get out of the house.”

Castiel groaned, “Ugh, fine.” He complied, not wanting Gabriel to actually attempt to force him out of his seat. He stood up, and walked over to the side of his bed to look for his cane, figuring his brother was going to be taking him out on some agonizing walk.

“Come on,” Gabriel said, walking off with Castiel barely following behind on his heels. “Look, just go take a walk or something. Get some fresh air and clear your head,” His brother insisted, “I'll cook something up so you can eat a full meal when you get back. You gotta take care of yourself. Can you do that for me Cassie?”

Castiel was a bit irritated by Gabriel's pestering and nagging, yet all at the same time he was touched that he even cared enough to do so. He felt glad that someone was pushing him so far so they could see him succeed. He sighed and agreed with a reluctant nod of the head, “Alright. I'll take a walk.”

He grabbed his long trench coat that had been sprawled across the headrest of the couch, and shuffled into it before he stepped outside and split into the cold winter air. Castiel held out his cane with his right hand as he shoved his left hand into his deep pocket for warmth, putting his phone in there in case of an emergency.

“See'ya in a bit then?” Gabriel asked from the doorway behind him, reminding Castiel of a worried mother bird hesitantly throwing their baby bird out of the nest. He merely chuckled at Gabriel's worry and nodded once more before he started walking ahead, using his cane without thought.

The air was crisp, and tasted of the bleak predictions of upcoming snow. It had been awhile since Castiel had been out in any snow, and he was hoping that by the time it did snow, he and Gabriel would be back on good terms and that everything between he and Lucifer would be settled. He trudged carefully away from the apartment complex as the sounds of crunching ice wafted from beneath his feet with every step he took.

The walk was doing him some good, Castiel could admit that much. He felt less anxious about the entire Lucifer situation, and felt more comfortable in his own skin now. Relaxing with a fresh breath of air that came with every step, Castiel dared to explore further than he had previously.

Castiel walked across a new street when he heard the loud beeping sound of the crosswalk alarm. He waited a few moments for any cars that might be turning prior to crossing the street. Castiel felt bold as he kept walking down this street. The sound of cars staggering by, of merry people humming Christmas carols before Thanksgiving, and the sound of busy workers that walked along or past him littered the air. The smells of gasoline and dinners were muddled in Castiel's nose, and he wasn't sure if he liked the scents.

He couldn't have predicted the patch of ice ahead of him as he marched on along the street. Somehow, his cane had either missed it, or he hadn't been careful enough for the upcoming obstacle. Whether or not he had simply been careless didn't matter since he was abruptly off his feet within seconds and falling backwards. He was going to fall back, hit his head against the ground and splatter the frosty pavement with his warm blood. He wondered as he got closer to the ground, what it would look like. What a sight it would be. What people would say about it.

He never got the chance to find out though, as he felt himself grabbed by someone from behind before he fell to the ground. It seemed like a man had swooped in to save him from what seemed to be the inevitable doom. Castiel pushed away from the man as soon as he felt oxygen flow into his lungs again. He bent over, breathing harshly but attempting to calm the strangled gasps for air.

“Holy shit,” He could hear the man say, in a surprisingly warm voice, though it was firm, Castiel got the impression of a baffled young man, most likely an intelligent man. “Are you alright? You scared the crap out of me, I was worried you'd get yourself killed.”

Castiel stood up, retrieving the stolen gusts of air so that he could calmly address him without seeming like a wheezing idiot. “Yes I am fine.” He said, collecting himself, “Thank you very much.” He added earnestly.

He could tell that the stranger was making a physical gesture at him from the pause of the conversation, and he was sure that he was going to hear a load of crap about how he was blind, and that he was sorry for being an idiot. Although, he could sense a shift of understanding in the man, he didn't mutter an apology or even a word about it, which was alien to Castiel, though he was very relieved because of it.

“It's not problem. You seem a little worn out though, would you like to rest at the coffee shop to your right? If you feel uncomfortable around me or by this situation, then by all means, reject the idea, but I want to make sure you won't faint from an anxiety attack or anything.” The stranger explained patiently.

Castiel thought it over, and saw no harm in talking to this man, after all, he had saved his life of a lot of trouble, possibly even simply his life. He nodded with a polite smile, and turned to his right, very slowly making his way into the shop, glad that the man hadn't tried to hold the door open for him or anything. It was surprisingly nice to be treated like a normal human.

The warm air immediately dove in to hit him on full blast. The strong smells of coffee, teas, peppermint, and various foods simmered in this comfortable environment. Castiel felt the warmth settle down to his chilled bones and was already grateful he had agreed with this man. The soft voices of people hanging out, eating food, and drinking their over caffeinated beverages lowly chimed in the coffee shop. The man and Castiel sat at a booth across from each other, Castiel set his cane beside him on the booth, and he could hear the stranger shift on the rubber seat of the booth.

“Do you want something? I can get us hot cocoa or something.” The man recommended, showing that he did care about Castiel's well being, at least a little bit.

Castiel wanted to say yes, but he felt that he should politely decline. But he was cold down to his insides, and the thought of a simmering cup of hot chocolate excited him. The last time he had had that lovely warm drink was years ago, when he and Anna decided to bake on a winter day. “Do you mean hot chocolate?” He said instead, finding it odd that this man referred to the beverage as hot _cocoa_.

“I mean hot cocoa. 'Still a kid at heart, get off my case. I'll take that as a yes though. Wait here, I'll go up and order it. Want anything to eat?” The stranger retorted childishly before seriously inquiring Casitel.

“I'll skip the food, as I will be eating with my brother once I get home.” Castiel explained and could hear the man stand up before he left to wait at the counter to make their orders. He felt his phone vibrating against his leg in his coat pocket, and he reached into his pocket and fished the phone out, answering it immediately as he assumed that it was Gabriel calling.

It wasn't. “Hello Cassie-poo.” He heard the voice on the other end of the phone hiss mischievously, of course it was his other brother, not the snobby rich boy, but the violent manipulative gang leader, “I see you are waiting for a delicious cup of _cocoa_. Do you know who you are with Castiel?”

Castiel was entirely confused, and getting more and more anxious by the moment as he listened to Lucifer's voice snarl, “That's him Castiel. Sam Winchester. Get him to me, or I will myself.”

The call ended with a click.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Lost Stars" by Maroon 5.
> 
> My dilemma was whether or not to make Castiel go on an outing with Dean and meet with Sam that way, make him go out and run into Lucifer who would threaten him, or this, my last idea, which was for him to ironically bump into Sam without knowing he did. SO YEAH. Done. Tell me what you think. Could it have been better?


	9. It Doesn't Even Matter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel finally confronts the man that Lucifer has been searching for, and gets into some potential deep trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Threats, violence, gang violence, kidnapping.
> 
> EDIT (1/2/15): I literally just realized that I mixed up the chapter summary and the chapter notes whoops;;;
> 
> I AM SO SORRY YOU GUYS. I started working on it last week, but then my laptop died and I had to focus on Chemistry anyways, so I just waited until Friday to start working on this. I had to use the family desktop and restart the chapter. I figured I could finish it yesterday and post it late. But no, out Internet was turned off, and since we are leaving on a trip soon, my Dad figured we don't need wifi for a few days. So pretty much I have been writing it on the computer and struggling to transfer it to my phone without internet. Didn't work. So I actually connected to Xfinity on my phone (I guess it's free for an hour) and I am posting it now. 
> 
> With all that said, I am going to be going on a trip from Monday through Friday, do don't expect anything to be uploaded until next weekend, if I even write then. Sorry for the inconsistency. After the holidays I should be back on track. I just promise not to miss a week. 
> 
> Also, keeping all this in mind, please be aware that I will have more trouble writing this without my laptop. So just be patient. I am sorry! I know this has tons of mistakes, I might need to get a beta. Please point out any mistakes I make. (Not only with grammar also with events that happen).

Castiel was frozen in place. He felt shaken up as he thought about exactly what Lucifer had said. This man, this man was the one he had been looking for. Was it a coincidence that he had ran into him? Did he, Sam Winchester, know of him? Was he out to get him?

Yet Castiel had a strong feeling deep in his gut that Sam was not like that. He seemed to have this easing way of talking and moving, as if he had had his own fair share of troubles, but he still knew how to be a good person. Shit, what he was even supposed to do? Clearly, Castiel had found Sam, so now what? Was he supposed to just tell him that Lucifer was looking for him, or was he supposed to hang out with him and then catch him off guard? Could he even find it in himself to deceive this seemingly kind stranger.

Okay, he heard the man walking back to the booth, he had to act now. Castiel just had to assume that Sam was some huge asshole who had majorly screwed Lucifer over. He had killed one of his friends, he had raped a woman, he was the worst man alive. Yeah, if he thought like that, he would gladly trick the asshole. He could do this.

Sam was standing at the table now, “Uhm, they don't have anymore hot cocoa, I guess it's just this weather really makes it a popular choice. Would you rather that I get us some mocha or something? I'll tell you what they have on the menu.”

This would not work out at all if Sam was going to do that. Be so kind to him, just as kind as Gabriel, Charlie, Jo and Dean had been to him. This sucked. Castiel bit down on his bottom lip with curses stirring on the tip of his tongue, and nodded without a word.

“What's up?” He could hear Sam question attentively, leaning in closer, “You're not, like, freaking out over the fall right? You didn't hurt yourself? I thought I did a pretty good job making sure your head wouldn't be injured.”

This would be impossible. Sam sounded way too compassionate for his own good. Maybe that was why Lucifer was after him. Castiel didn't know what the history between Sam and Lucifer was, but he did know the difference between the leeching sound of a bad man's glazed over voice and the honestly concerned and humane sound of a good man's warm voice. And he knew that Lucifer was in a bad business and that unless Sam was _really_ good at acting, that he was going to be the victim here, and that if he turned him in, he would regret it for the rest of his life.

So naturally, Castiel leaned over, obviously overdoing it with his movements, and started to groan in pain. Immediately, he felt Sam shake his shoulders, and then was pulled up by the arm as he heard Sam frantically curse, “Dammit, come on, we gotta get you to the hospital.”

Castiel stubbornly shook his head, and wished with all his heart that he could now look Sam right in the eyes and express that he was in danger without saying a word. He wanted the man to know that he was trying to help, despite the fact that he was risking his own ass to do so.

“Fuck, alright, bathroom.” He heard Sam grunt, gently tugging him over in the direction of the bathroom. He felt the wood underneath his feet turn into tile within moments, and waited until Sam closed the door behind him.

Castiel asked quietly, “What kind of bathroom is this? A closed one toilet one or one with stalls?”

“Wait, what?” Sam asked in disbelief, then he must have looked over at Castiel as he heard the suspicion drawl in his voice as he continued, “Fine, a closed bathroom. No stalls. I wouldn't lie about that.”

“Good.” Castiel said with a nod, “Alright, you're Sam Winchester, right?” He asked, trying not to beat around the bushes and to make it to the point. He wasn't sure if causing a scene in the restaurant was necessary, but he knew he had been feeling watched a lot lately, and the fact that Lucifer knew he was with Sam made the feeling a fact. He couldn't just go around talking about this in public clearly, for all he knew, Lucifer could have been at the bar in the coffee shop.

“How the hell did you know who I am?” Sam asked, sounding both angry and frightened at once. Castiel could hear the other take a step back on the tile, the footstep bouncing against the walls and floor of the bathroom.

Castiel kept his cool, regardless of the panic that was spiraling in his stomach. “I assume you know of Lucifer? The leader of Gates of Hell?”

He could feel the tension in the room rise dramatically, which meant he struck a chord in Sam. He realized belatedly, that Sam Winchester might actually be a bad guy, and that he had just put himself in a room with the guy all alone.

“I'll ask again,” Sam said, quiet but fury clear in his voice. There was no longer a trace of fear to be heard in his voice, “Who the _fuck_ are you?”

“Castiel Novak.” He said after a moment, “Unfortunately, I am related to Lucifer, he is my brother and he is playing me. I'm not sure what he wants from you, or what your relationship is with him, I am supposed to retrieve you and take you to him. I'm trying to get out of a mess too.” He admitted, hoping that honesty was the best policy.

“He sent his own brother to get me?” Sam hissed angrily, “Is he blackmailing you?” Castiel barely got a nod in before Sam was ranting and raving again, “Fucking hell! I'm only here for three days and already he finds me? Why hasn't he taken my brother yet then? He wants him as much as he wants me. Fuck, what the hell!”

Castiel jumped when he heard the toilet be smashed with a powerful force, and could even feel the draft from the action. He backed away from Sam, feeling his outrage ripple throughout the small bathroom and it seemed to swallow him whole.

“Goddammit.” He could hear the man say, brokenly, “Sorry Cas. I didn't mean to scare you, you're just the messenger, I get it. You do realize that you can't trust that man thought right? I mean, hell, he's sending his own brother out to do this crap.”

“I am very aware of that.” Castiel said after a few beats of calming his racing pulse through steady breaths, “That's why I pretended to be in pain and get us to the bathroom. Either he or one of his friends are following and watching us. I could _feel_ them. I almost talked myself into just leading you to him, but you were too kind to be someone that Lucifer wanted with a good purpose. Well, my definition of good anyways.”

Silence resonated within the room. It was strange to just hear Sam's harsh breathing and his own along with that. “Okay. Okay. We got this. We'll go to my brother's house. He'll know what to do. We'll just walk out, you can talk me into getting a cab for us, then call him or something. Ask him where we got to go, and then we'll just drive to Dean's.”

“Dean?” Castiel asked suddenly, “Is Dean your brother then?” Castiel asked, astonished by the fact.

“You know him?” Sam asked, sounding a bit too casual after his panic attack.

“I met him once at the Roadhouse when I was accompanying Charlie and Jo there.” Castiel explained absentmindedly, when people said that it was a small world, he had never had an experience that proved this. The world had always seemed much too large for him, but now in this moment he thought that it was smaller than ever. He was cramped in a tiny bathroom with Dean's brother, being watched by Lucifer and being contained. He had always been restricted to small areas, yet he had always known in the back of his head that the world was too large for him. Now it seemed as thought he was too big for this world, strangely enough.

“Weird.” Sam murmured, before sighing, “We gotta get out of here. Come on, let's go.” He followed after Sam, both of them trailing through the coffee shop until they were outside, back in the cold of the grim day.

Castiel watched his step, and realized that he had left his cane at the booth when he was pretending to be injured. There was no time to waste now though, for a cab had come, and Castiel signaled it to pull up to him and Sam. “Get in.” He said gruffly, keeping his senses in check.

He still felt like he was being watched intensely.

Castiel felt his hand trembling as he held the phone to his ear. The voice on the other end coldly snarled, “Tell the driver to go to go onto Wreath Drive, we'll meet you two there. And Castiel, please keep in mind that we got an eye on you and your brother.”

“ _Our_ brother,” Castiel couldn't hold it back, but he immediately said after wards, “We'll see you there.”

“Good.” The sickeningly sweet voice of Lucifer drawled out, giving Castiel the shivers.

He hung up as soon as he could, and handed the phone to Sam, “Quick, call Gabriel. I need to talk to him and I don't have time to wait for my phone to respond to my voice.” God only knew how he would end up if his life was in danger and he was calling the police.

Sam cooperated and handed Castiel his phone back. He put it to his ear and waited for the dialing tone to pass. He was relieved when he felt it click and could hear his brother ask frantically, “Castiel? What's wrong? Are you alright?”

“I am as alright as I am going to be. Gabriel, listen to me closely- You have to get out of your apartment right now. Go to the Trans', go down to Charlie's and Jo's, hell go to the laundry room, just get out of your room.”

“What? Cassie, what's going on? What's wrong buddy?” Castiel could hear the tension in Gabriel's voice rise as he asked these questions frantically.

“Lucifer.” It was the only word he needed to grab his brother's attention again, all while explaining what was going on, “You were right. He was using me, and was threatening my life as well as yours. Now hurry up and do as I say Gabriel.”

“Fuck Cassie, what are you doing? I'm all for you breaking the rules and fighting back, but dude, this is _Lucifer_ , and there really isn't much you can do in your . . . condition.” Gabriel explained as slowly as he could.

“Because I'm blind?” Castiel snapped, he could literally feel his brother cringe on the other side of the phone, “Gabriel, just trust me on this. I'll be fine.” He lied through his teeth. He had no idea how this would end up, and had no idea whether or not he would be alright. Hell, he didn't have a clue as to what he and Sam were going to do. He could only pray that Dean would have the slightest clue as to what to do.

He heard his brother sigh on the phone, but was glad when he finally heard him give in, “Alright, just be careful and don't do anything stupid. Keep your cane close so you could whack Lucifer's bitches with it, alright?”

Castiel agreed with him, regretting the fact that he didn't have his cane with him, and he hung up as soon as he could. He turned his head towards Sam, and asked, “So, what will Dean be able to do about this?”

He could tell that Sam didn't have a clue.

Sam knocked on the door furiously, as Castiel stood behind him without making a movement or saying a word. Both let out a relieved sigh when the door opened with a squeak.

The distinct smell of Dean drifted to Castiel. Leather, oil, cologne, and something lightly sweet and yet manly that he couldn't identify. It was very clear to Castiel that Dean was standing right before him, and for the first time in years, he felt extremely self aware of how he looked. Oh sure, he couldn't see himself, and couldn't see Dean's reaction, but it didn't mean he didn't care. Usually he just stifled it down, but right now he felt those old feelings bubbling back onto the surface. He was being ridiculous.

“Oh, hey Sam, hey Cas. I see you two have met. . .” Dean seemed to have drifted off as thoughts caught up with him, “What's wrong with you two? You both look like you have seen a ghost or some shit. Oh crap- Well, I didn't mean 'seen'- you know what, never mind. Never happened.” Dean rambled on, the anxiousness in his voice clear to Castiel, and he had to chuckle a little bit at Dean's stammering, but regained his composure within seconds as Sam started to explain what had happened.

“Dean, this is serious. Come on, let's go inside.” Sam said, pulling Castiel along into the house. Castiel had been surprised that Dean was living in a house on his own. Apparently Sam only came back here from California a few times a year, so the fact that Dean lived in a fairly large house on his own seemed strange to Castiel.

Before Dean could chip a word into the conversation, Sam immediately explained, “Lucifer is back Dean. He's pretty much Castiel's brother, and Cas is being toyed with too. He sent him to me to lead me back to him, but Cas saw that I wasn't an asshole so yeah. He told me about it all and I didn't know what to do so I was hoping you might have some idea.” Sam spoke quickly so that Dean couldn't say anything between the sentences. He sounded desperate and vulnerable now, it was such a strange difference compared to how strong-willed and fierce he had sounded before. Now he sounded like a little brother begging his big brother for help.

“Ah, shit man. . .” Dean whispered. Castiel could feel Dean's eyes burning on him, and he hung his head in shame. He wanted to say something, but couldn't. This was his fault after all. If he hadn't gone along with Lucifer, then he wouldn't have brought this shit to these men.

“Cas, it's not your fault man. Shit happens. We just gotta deal with some pieces of shit now. No idea how, but we gotta. Does Gabriel know about this?” Dean asked after reassuring Castiel lightly. It was strange how easily he read him.

Castiel nodded, then shook his head, “He knows, just not to the full extent of it. I told him to get somewhere safe so that Lucifer wouldn't do anything to him. I am sorry for bringing you both into this. . . If I had known- I thought that the man Lucifer was looking for would be deserving of it. I hadn't thought that he would be like Sam is at all.”

“Yeah, it's alright buddy. Obviously you're in some deep shit yourself. Gosh, how could a guy do that to his own brother? That's just fucked up,” Dean said, an angry layer hiding in his voice as he said that, “Alright but right, plans.”

It was another silent moment in which nobody spoke a word, before Castiel felt his phone vibrate against his leg again. He felt all his fear whirl in his mind as he pulled his phone out and said directly into the speaker, “Answer call.” He felt both brothers' eyes on him as the phone was brought to his ear.

Castiel couldn't even say “Hello,” if he had wanted to, and honestly at this point it wasn't necessary. He knew the minute he answered the phone who was on the other end, and that he was screwed. He knew that he had been being watched closely, and he knew that he was going to be royally screwed over. He knew that his brother was sneaky.

So why was it that he was still surprised when he heard the son of a bitch on the phone, and why was he surprised by his mocking words?

“You lost the game Cassie. Maybe you'll learn your lesson next time you think you can sneak away with something like this.”

It all happened within moments. Suddenly, the sound of the door being banged open was loudly echoing throughout the room, and the screeching sound of the door being busted down rang. Castiel was so close to the front door that he could feel the splinters from the eruption of the wooden door hit his face. He heard Sam and Dean yell what seemed like foreign words at each other as he was grabbed by the much more tall and physically fit man that grabbed a hold of his shoulders. All he could think in that moment, is of what Gabriel had said about keeping his cane close. He could have hit him across the shins with the damn thing. He could have had a chance. Instead he was thrown onto the floor on his back, and then rolled over, and before he knew it, his world blanked out. As usual though, it was black. Except now, all his consciousness left him.

When he woke up, he felt himself being shaken by someone who was too close to him for his comfort. Castiel immediately shot up and scampered backwards, feeling an unfamiliar carpet underneath his hands, that was soaked with something cold. He tilted his head upwards, and felt terrified as he recalled what had happened all at once.

“It's alright Cas.” He could hear Dean say, his low and gruff voice such a relief to Castiel that he was sure that Dean had seen the immediate relaxation of his nerves. “We're just in my house. You're a mess though. Hell, so am I. Come on, let's clean you up.”

Castiel nodded dizzily, gladly taking the hand that Dean offered him. Strangely it was exactly where he had guessed it would be. For the few moments that Dean helped him up off the ground, Castiel was soothed by Dean's hand. It felt worn out and rough, but there was a warmth in it that he had only felt in Anna's hands as a child. Except Anna's were soft and smooth. Dean's was obviously roughed up. There were callouses, scars, old stitches, in his hand. And right now, he could feel a dried out liquid on the palm of his hand as well. Still, it was startlingly comforting.

Castiel felt like puking when he was on his own two feet. He didn't feel the greatest right now, and his mind felt fogged. His head was throbbing, and when he moved anything on his face, he felt a wet stickiness on it. He finally found it in himself to croak out, “Where is Sam?”

The atmosphere changed. Castiel tensed up. “No, don't tell me-” He said, disbelief deep in his voice. Lucifer had taken Sam. He had left both Castiel and Dean, and he had just showed up and taken Dean's brother. What kind of fucked up man did that.

“I'll lead you to the kitchen.” Dean spoke firmly, sounding so distressed. His voice had just a small quiver on the word kitchen. He grabbed Castiel's shirt and tuggged him over the threshold that led into the kitchen, and forced him to sit down on a chair. He must be angry. He must hate Castiel. Why was he even bothering with the act?

Castiel had brought this mess to the Winchester brothers. He had just led Sam to Lucifer regardless, and he had just taken away Dean's brother. And where the hell were his consequences? Castiel frantically dug his phone in his pocket, and gasped as he felt the shattered screen and the broken back of the phone.

“Yikes, that's wrecked.” Dean stated the obvious, “You wanna call Gabriel to make sure he's alright, right?” Dean assumed. Correctly, Castiel had to admit. He nodded a bit stubbornly. “Well, I can let you use my phone if you want man.”

“I would, except I don't know his number by heart.” He admitted. It had seemed stupid when Gabriel wanted him to memorize his cell phone number, but now he understood why. Gosh, Castiel was such a careless person, wasn't he?

“Shit man.” Dean said a bit dumbly, “Well, you'll find out once you get home. Let's make you look less like a bum who just got into a street fight though man.”

“Why do you even care about helping me?” Castiel asked. He didn't ask it because he was being stubborn or trying to start something, he sincerely wanted to know why a man would help another after he had just stirred up this shit and had possibly just gotten his brother killed.

He could hear Dean shrug as he moved away from Castiel and about the kitchen. “Because I'm not a total dick maybe? I know I must seem like it, but yeah, I'm not.”

“That's not what I meant at all.” Castiel argued, feeling bad that Dean had thought he had implied that, “I mean, I just brought in a lot of trouble and yet you are still willing to help me. Why? Not many people I know would ever consider to do that if something or someone was important to them was taken. Unless Sam wasn't all that important I suppose . . .” Castiel wandered off.

“Oh God no. Sammy is my brother Castiel,” Dean was closer now, he could hear the sound of a plastic box being opened, “We're blood. Look, I don't know what kind of fucked up people you know, but just because you kind of led trouble here doesn't mean it was your intention to get us fucked over. If you're gonna ask me that, I might as well ask you this? Why did you feel the need to help Sam over if you _knew_ it was gonna screw you over.”

It was a good point, one that Castiel hadn't thought of. He stayed silent as he concentrated on the question. He could hear Dean rummaging through his box, and obeyed when he was told to get off the chair and to lay down on the ground. He felt shaken up and light headed, and he knew that he must have hurt his head when he fell after that man had attacked him. He lay on the floor, his eyes open, he must have looked odd, just lying there and starring into space.

“Alright,” Dean said calmly, breaking Castiel's hazy thoughts, “I'm just going to apply pressure to your head wound. You got a cut that's pretty deep, but I don't think it was deep enough to actually fracture your skull or anything. Just lie still and stay calm alright?”

Castiel nodded, which was stupid because it just made the ball of pain in his head bounce even more rapidly, and hurt it even more. He bit down hard on his lower lip as he thought about the stupidity of his actions. He stayed completely still as Dean pressed what felt like gauze to the left side of his forehead, near his temple. He could feel Dean applying pressure to the wound, and he wondered vaguely if that was what he was supposed to do, it shot some pain through his head.

“Sorry if that hurt. Kind of necessary procedure though.” Dean muttered, “You already lost quite a bit of blood. That guy had knocked us both out and must have taken Sam after.” Dean explained to Castiel, “We'll get you cleaned up, then I can drive you over to Gabriel's apartment.” He continued to hold down the gauze to Castiel's head, and with his other hand began to clean his head and face with a warmly damped rag, carefully brushing over his skin.

“Thank you.” Castiel whispered lightly, “I'm honestly not used to people treating me so kindly unless it is Gabriel, or Anna when she was still around.” He admitted silently.

Dean was quiet for a few moments. Castiel could still hear his breathing though, and he could feel his firm hands resting on his forehead as he pressed the gauze down on it. He wondered if he had said something wrong, and felt panic bubble in his chest as he thought about how he could make it up to Dean before he showed he was angry. It was odd, but those old habits and thoughts of fear that his uncle had stoned into him, the ones of embarrassment and shame that Michael and Lucifer had etched into his mind, were still there. It was different when he was with Gabriel, since he _knew_ that he was a good man, and he had always been kind to him, even at a young age. But he didn't know Dean all that well, and there was no telling how he would react to Castiel making a fool of himself. As Castiel was lying down on his back on the ground, Dean was hovering over him, all power clearly in his hands. Castiel felt a fight or flight instinct settling in slowly as fear and panic washed over him.

However, Dean responded casually, as if he hadn't noticed Castiel's internal freak out. “It's fine Cas. I wasn't going to let you bleed out and then drop you off at your house. I'm sorry there hasn't been many good people in your life though man. I can sorta relate.” Dean admitted, his voice a harsh whisper.

The aches of fear dimmed as Castiel listened to Dean continue, sounding angry. “I want to say that it was my Dad's fault for getting Sam into this mess, but it really isn't. I wanna blame him for a lot of things, but I have the blame. Sam might say otherwise, but we both know deep down man. He would have never met Lucifer if I hadn't gotten angry with him. He wouldn't have ever been in trouble with Dad if I hadn't just got him to stop, hell, he would've had a mother and had a happy peachy keen life if he had just killed me instead.” Dean's voice got quieter and quieter as he continued. He was breathing deeply, taking long drags of breath between each sentence, in order to calm himself, but it wasn't working so long as he kept speaking.

He startled when he felt a hot drop of liquid hit his neck, and then he hid his alarm as soon as he belatedly realized that Dean was crying. Despite feeling so out of it, Castiel remembered reaching his hand up to cup Dean's cheek with. It was strange to feel his face, he had a jaw full of scratchy stubble, his skin was smooth, except for in some areas he traced over he discovered small scars or cuts, and he felt a trail of hot tears on his hand as he held Dean's face in his palm. Castiel was surprised to feel Dean turn toward his hand, seeming to nuzzle against it, looking for an ounce of warmth and affection there.

It was awhile before Dean nudged his hand away, and took a deep breath in order to recollect himself. Neither of them said a word, just waited until Dean thought that the bleeding had stopped, and removed the gauze from his forehead, takign away the now cold rag from his head as well. “It's alright.” His scratchy voice said, “Lemme bandage it, to keep it clean and to stop any bleeding if it bleeds again.”

Castiel waited, lying down on the floor as Dean stood up and walked away to another part of the house to gather something to bandage the wound. He didn't understand these moments with Dean. So far, every time they were together, he had felt this deeply intense bond with him, from the time that they met. And he didn't know too much about him, but from what he did know, he could tell that Dean was not one to have soft moments like that with a man he hardly knew. Especially ones when he was the one crying and seeking comfort.

He was drifting off, so he yelped in surprise as he felt his side being nudged with a boot. It took him a second to remember he was safe. That he was no longer _there_. He bit down his anxiety and waited for Dean to explain what was going on.

There was no explanation, instead, Dean crouched over him and lifted up his head lightly. He circled the fresh gauze around his head until he clipped it on properly. “Don't sleep for a few hours. You might have a concussion, and we don't need you to fall into some coma. I'll probably need you to get Sam back.”

Castiel nodded, finally sitting up as Dean stepped back. “Would you drive me to Gabriel's apartment?” He got up on his feet slowly, swaying as he finally stood on his own two feet.

Dean rushed behind him to hold him steady, and said carefully, “Yeah, sure man. I'm going to give you my cell number, okay? Uhm, I wanna write it down but that would be a little stupid and pointless. . .” He trailed off, the foolishness he felt obvious in his voice.

“Do you have any thick pieces of paper?” Castiel asked, “And a stick of some kind? I can write it down and read it later if I need you.” He explained.

“Wait- Oh- Right. You know braille then?” Dean asked, allowing Castiel to stand up on his own two feet now, walking away to search for something Castiel could write with.

“Yes. I do not think I would have been able to get far if I hadn't had a book and a writing stylus and slate with me,” He said. Reading had been his way to escape, it still was. If hadn't been taught how to read braille, his life would have certainly been much more stressful and terrifyingly too real for him.

He followed Dean as he moved out of the kitchen and into another room, the one that they had earlier come out of. As he was walking, he could feel the wet part of the carpet squish with a sick noise underneath his shoe. He froze on the spot.

“Oh shit,” Dean muttered, “That's just, uhm, some blood,” He explained, “You lost quite a lot while we lost consciousness. Which is why you feel lightheaded. It's alright though, just stay up for a few hours, then rest once you get home.”

Castiel nodded, not saying a word, simply shuddering as he stepped out of the puddle of blood. _His_ blood.

“Here, some thick paper and a pen. I figured you can just indent the paper with the pen just the same.” Dean handed him the thick piece of paper, most likely card stock paper, and a cheap pen to write with.

They walked over to a couch, and Dean had him lean over the coffee table to write his number at. Castiel carefully wrote the number. When one wrote with a stylus and a slate, they had to write backwards, since they would be flipping the paper over to feel the indents, and read from left to right like anyone else. Castiel turned the paper over once he was done, and lightly felt the raised dots, reading the digits of Dean's number. “Thank you.” He said, grateful for someone to call in case things went wrong. If he recalled correctly, Gabriel had a house phone that had already had braille on the numbers. He had still given him a cell phone so that Castiel could check in when he was out. He regretted not knowing his brother's phone number by heart, to make sure that he was alright, that he hadn't been taken by Lucifer.

“It's no problem. Come on, I'll lead you to my baby.” Dean said, and Castiel reached over, glad that he had found Dean's elbow easily.

Walking out of the house, they went down the walkway to the driveway. “You have a child?” Casitel asked, curious. He didn't see Dean already being settled down with a kid and perhaps even a wife. Eventually maybe, but he felt that Dean wouldn't even know whether or not he knew that himself right now.

“Nawh, my car. The Impala. She's my baby.” Dean told Castiel, turning to the left and jangling his keys. Castiel reached forward gently to feel the car, and was pleasantly surprised by the cool, smooth hood of the car. “Careful,” Dean hissed out, struggling with his keys.

“I'm sure she's a beauty.” Castiel remarked. The car certainly felt that way. He moved his hand up more, and found a small ridge going upwards. “Is she a classic car?” He inquired curiously.

“Yeah, how could you tell?” Dean asked, sounding a bit surprised. He had successfully opened the driver's seat's door, and led Castiel to the other side, where he sat in what he assumed was the passenger's seat.

Inhaling the interior of the car's smell confirmed that the car was a classic, and also explained why Dean smelled of leather. “The edge of the car isn't smooth, more boxy, and the ridges are kind of out of style.” He said.

“True. Nice deduction considering you hit your head Sherlock.” Dean laughed, closing Castiel's door, before climbing in on his own side. “So where does Gabriel live? Doesn't he live in the same complex as Charlie and Jo?”

“Yes, and Kevin. Also, I am not Sherlock Holmes Dean. He is a popular fictional character originally found in Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's book series.” Castiel argued. He would know, he had read all of the books.

Dean whistled, “Wow, nerd much? I know dumbo. I also know that they've adapted the books into tons of movies and TV shows.” He said, starting up the engine and backing up out of the driveway, “Back on topic though, I know Kevin. That kid is a genius. Better to not mess with him though, we'd screw up his perfect life if we did. He has it good. He's worked hard for all that shit.”

Castiel considered what Dean was saying, and couldn't help but frown when he understood exactly what he was implying, “I don't think that you screw everything up Dean. I may not know you well, however I feel as if you have a lot of great potential if you aimed for it.”

“Bullshit, you wanna know what potential means? It means you haven't done a goddamn thing. You just told me I could do a lot, but I haven't tried. I got no potential Cas. I wanna do a lot, I've _tried_ , just shit never goes my way, so I stopped. Too many times I've raised my hopes up high and expected the best then was let down- Whether it was by my Dad, or Sammy, or Bobby, or by myself. Fuck potential man. What's the point of trying? In the end, it doesn't matter.”

Castiel didn't fully comprehend what Dean was saying, where he was coming from. He felt like this man had so much in him, and that he was just throwing it away. Perhaps Dean couldn't see it. Even Castiel could see it though, so it must be there, right?

The car kept going though, neither of them said anything, rejoicing in the easy silence. They turned left, then right, then left again, before they ended up in front of the apartment complex. Castiel felt his heart beat rapidly as he heard Dean whisper, “Holy shit!”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "In The End" by Linkin Park. Also I am aware of lame format rn it wont lemme change it ugh.
> 
> EDIT: HEY FINALLY UPDATED THIS IN A NORMAL FORMAT. WORKING ON CHAPTER 10 RIGHT NOW YOU GUYS!!! SORRY!


	10. At The End of The Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel gets bad news. But hey, Castiel and Dean bond a little bit too!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Kidnapping, violence, shooting, emotional abuse (manipulation), anxiety attack, low self esteem from all parties.
> 
> Hi you guys. I am exhausted. This is a short chapter. I was going to continue, but I got no creative juices flowing in me right now. Actually, I am pretty stuck at this point. So I gotta go thinking on what I am planning to go from here. Kinda. I may or may not take a break for next week because Christmas. I hardly got this done because of my vacation, which was amazing and relaxing but at the same time horrible and stressful. Long story short, snow is a bitch, especially if you are a clueless Californian. Tire chains. Sliding. Mountains. Just nope.

“Holy shit,” Those words echoed within Castiel's mind as Dean threw the car door open and ran out of the car he admired so, and out onto the pavement. Foolishly, Castiel feared that Dean would slip on the icy and cold road. He realized that this should be the least of his worries given all the commotion.

Castiel slowly caught up to the real world around him and he quickly stumbled out of the car. As soon as he took another step forward, he was tripping over the curb of a sidewalk. Which meant that he was across the street from Gabriel's apartment. He only knew this since he recalled that when he had climbed out of the passenger's seat in Lucifer's car, he had been on the road, so he knew that the apartment complex was on the left side of the road.

He realized that he hadn't heard Dean close his door, and he carefully circled the car, lightly holding onto the smooth and well cared for Impala, and he shut the door to Dean's seat firmly.

Voices were gathering across the street, concerned ones, questioning ones. The static sounds of walkie-talkies bounced on Castiel's side of the street and on the other side. The ordinary sounds of cars revving and of engines weren't as loud, as if the cars were blocked off from the street, or were slowly inching forward in order to see what was going on. There was obviously something going on, and just knowing that terrified Castiel. So many possibilities presented themselves to Castiel, and he had no idea how to sort through them as fear and panic clawed their way up to his throat.

Gabriel was dead. He was shot in the head and spread across the pavement, covered in blood. He'd read enough books that painted him a grotesque and vivid description of a man shot in the head. Red blood. Splattered parts of his pink brain sprinkled along with the pieces of black pavement. Castiel trembled as he thought about what his brother's last thought may have been if his imaginary scenario had played out in reality.

Castiel hadn't felt so alone since he had arrived to Gabriel's. He hadn't felt so scared. He was frightened since Dean had ran off without him, especially after he had reassured him that he would stay with him. That they were in this together.

So Castiel started slowly scuffling across the street, taking cautious steps forward on the icy gravel road. He focused on exactly where he was going, and was taking in what the various voices around him were saying.

“. . . Was shot. . .”

“Poor kid . . . must be worried sick . . .”

“Yeah! Some random man just jumped in and pulled out his gun. Threatened them!”

“. . . The shooter was apart of a gang or something . . .”

Dread, terror, anxiety, everything boiled inside his chest fiercely upon hearing all this information. A gun? Someone was shot? The shooter was part of a gang. . . Who else could it possibly be?

Castiel started sprinting aimlessly, relieved as he miraculously jumped over the other curb without a fault. He kept running, the wind blowing over his face, his hair, surely blowing his trench coat dramatically through the air.

Despite only living here for about a month, Castiel knew exactly where to turn, and when to do so. Maybe it was the walks he had taken, maybe it was just instinct and adrenaline tapping into his motive memory. Not to mention he had gotten pretty comfortable here for the most part, and he had found it in his own best interest to familiarize himself with the layout of these apartments as much as he possibly could.

Nothing could stop him now. That is, except for Dean, who he had unknowingly ran right into. Dean seemed ready for Castiel to run into him though, as he had his hands out to stop him by firmly grasping him by the shoulders.

“Cas. . .” Dean muttered softly.

“Where is Gabriel?!?” Castiel yelled with frantic panic shocking himself more than he had surprised Dean when he had risen his voice. He didn't raise his voice often. . .

Dean let go of Castiel quickly, taking a step back with a sharp crunch on the floor. “Cas. . . They don't know.”

Terrible thoughts crossed through his mind as he thought of the impossible possibilities. “I heard someone was shot. Dean, please don't tell me. . .”

“As far as they know, he wasn't shot. Or killed. Just. . . taken. Kevin's the one who was shot. But just in the leg! He wasn't killed either. They're bringing him to the hospital. God, that son of a bitch is lucky as hell considering who it was that was messing with them.”

Castiel's voice was low with the burn of anger, with horror, “He's just. . . gone? They don't even know who took him, and where he is. They're cops! They gotta know this shit! He can't just be _gone_ , Dean. How could they possibly not know??”

“Cas, please calm down. We both know who did this. . .But you know your brother more than anyone else. The asshole covers his tracks well as hell.”

Crumbling. He had done this. Shattering. This was Castiel's fault. Tearing. He had risked Gabriel's life. Cracking. Now he was gone. Splitting. He could be _dead_ for all Castiel knew. Sobbing. He had done this. Boiling. If Gabriel was dead. . .

Castiel had learned a long time ago with a fist to his jaw to never throw tantrums. He'd learned with a slap across his cheek to never raise his voice. He was taught with a hand around his throat to never speak unless spoken to. Castiel was taught with a kick to the ribs to keep his emotions to himself. That when he cried, it wasn't a good reason, and that his uncle was courteous enough to give him a reason to cry.

He hadn't screamed so powerfully, so chillingly, since he was eight years old. He hadn't cried with such horrifyingly raw emotions since his father had abandoned him. He had cried silently alongside with Anna when Gabriel had left him. But he had known then that Gabriel was okay, most likely better off, and that he had had a choice when he left them. He had sobbed bitter tears when Anna chose to leave him, but she chosen to leave and he knew she would be happy away from his family, from him.

But now Gabriel had been stolen. He had had no say. It was all Castiel's fault. He had been selfish. He had been tricked, manipulated, played. He never should have agreed to go to Gabriel's. He deserved to suffer on the streets. . .

“Whoa!” He could hear Dean yell as he crumpled onto the floor, curling in on himself in a ball as much as he could. The screaming had subsided, and now he was wailing, then hyperventilating.

Castiel was a little boy again. He was falling down the steps of stairs again. Except this time, he wasn't physically falling down the stairs, but he was mentally plunging into the darkness. It was that first step that had doomed him to this fate. He felt the familiar cold nails clawing deep into his flesh, he could feel those criticizing eyes burn into his soul, and felt utterly helpless as he could never see them. The second step. This was the one that had set his fate to stone. It was the most profound. Hands held him down much like cuffs would in a mental hospital. Like chains would in a prison. They scrambled to his throat, to his arms, his legs, and scratched down into his skin as he fell in his dark world.

But those vanished as arms were suddenly wrapped around him. They vanquished the cold bony hands, and replaced them with strong, warm hands rubbing up and down his back. The icy breaths along his face and his ears were substituted with the hot breath that smelled subtly of mint and liquor, rather than of the stench of decaying flesh and the biting metal of blood.

Dean had made a mistake for as soon as he had put his arms around Castiel, the stupid blind boy that had never meant anything to anyone, other than a burden they were shouldered with, he had committed himself to follow Castiel down into the depths of his dark abyss.

The smell of strong, bitter, black coffee and the feel of the hot steam from the beverage drifted right into his face. Castiel dizzily reached his hands out and felt the boiling hot cup of coffee be placed in his palms. He hesitantly took a sip from the cup, yanking his head back as he burned his upper lip on the boiling drink.

He could hear someone gasp, and then with a low voice, murmur, “Shit, I'm sorry Cas!” The coffee mug with the bitter beverage was yanked out of his hands and he could hear the sound of glass being set upon a wooden surface in front of him on his left.

Castiel was sitting down on a soft cushion, most likely a couch. He bounced a little bit and felt the springs underneath his bottom move with him. It was Dean sitting in front of him of course. He wasn't sure what he was sitting on, though assumed it was most likely a chair. He had that rich and deep voice, and he was the only one who called him Cas. Besides Sam, but the brothers were alike, weren't they? Giving nicknames to people they hardly knew.

“You back with me man?” He could hear Dean ask with an ounce of alien hesitation.

“I do not understand what you imply with that question. . .” Castiel trailed off uncertainly before asking his own burning question, “Where are we?”

Dean was squirming in his seat a little bit now, shuffling his feet on the carpeted floor that lay beneath their feet, creating the sound of fabric softly rubbing upon fabric, “Well I meant, are you done zoning out on me? You were pretty out of it after everything went down. We're back at my place.” He explained slowly, as if unsure as to whether or not Castiel was here with him now.

“Uhm,” Dean continued after Castiel remained silent, “I talked to Linda, Kevin's mom. She said that the kid's okay. She told me that Gabriel went over to their apartment to go warn them about Lucifer and his people. But I guess while he was still talking, two men broke the door down and pointed guns at Linda and Kevin, threatening Gabriel to surrender or they'd die. He started coming forward, but Kevin was a huge sobbing mess, and one of the men shot him in the leg to shut him up. Then the other guy knocked Linda, and she mentioned that just before she passed out, she faintly remembers seeing Lucifer's men dragging Gabriel out against his will.”

Upon hearing Linda's side of the incident, Castiel felt shaken up. He also felt terribly ashamed that he had forgotten about Kevin. “Can we go see him? I would like to make sure he is alright.” Even though Castiel didn't know Kevin all that well, he still cared for him. He was a good kid, intelligent, and ambitious. The last thing he deserved was for his life to be screwed up when he was so close to reaching his goals.

“I was gonna ask you the same thing.” Dean said softly with a light chuckle. They were quiet for a few more moments before Dean carried on with the conversation, “So I was thinking Cas. . . You should stay here until we could figure out where Sam and Gabriel are, until we could figure out how we are going to get them back. We gotta work together to get them man.”

Immediately, Castiel snapped at Dean, “Why? Because I'm blind? Because in your mind I'm helpless? You think I can't take care of myself! Everyone does!” He coldly accused Dean of all those hurtful words he was sure were floating in Dean's head.

Castiel grew angry when Dean took a moment to respond to the accusation, “No Cas. I suggested that because I need someone with me. Hell Cas, I'm fucking scared. Terrified really. My baby brother was kidnapped. I know you feel the same hopeless feeling I am. I can't do this alone. We gotta work together to do this. Besides, we make a good balance between us. You're brains and quick thinking while I'm brawn and good looks.” He concluded with a small bit of laughter.

Castiel felt terrible for jumping to immediate conclusions. He was glad that Dean was so understanding. However, that itching feeling of Dean's self esteem came again, and he felt the tug of wanting to reassure him that he was just as intelligent as Castiel was. He felt like if he did it seriously, Dean would get mad though. “Please,” Castiel retorted, “I may be blind but I know I am just as good looking as you. Plus, I might have quick thinking, but I am slow with performing those thoughts in action.”

“Yeah yeah.” He knew that Dean was rolling his eyes, “Anyways, you and I both know we gotta show Lucifer his goddamned place. I couldn't imagine life without Sammy.”

Castiel was a bit taken aback with what Dean had said, and he couldn't help himself as he tried to give Dean a reality check, “You do realize how absurd that sounds right? How difficult, possibly unrealistic, that statement was?”

“Well sue me! I guess you're right, leave it to me to make the stupid claim,” Dean replied quickly, laughing.

Castiel thought about it, “No, Dean you are right. We have bring Lucifer down. As ambitious as the deed sounds, it needs to be done.” He agreed, “Also, I understand what you meant about not wanting to be alone while you are in this situation. I didn't mean to seem ungrateful about your offer, I simply don't like to be looked down upon because of my impairment. Truthfully, up until recently, I still need help with a lot because of the limitations I've always had set for me before I came to live with Gabriel. I am attempting to grasp the ropes of living on my own.”  
Dean adjusted himself in his seat, that squeaked with his movement, “I get it man. I'd be pretty upset too. I've always had to live on my own though, if I was blind, Sammy or I would most likely be dead. If I ever get to be too much, just let me know would ya? I'm terrible at reading people.” He seemed restless, as he stood up from his seat now, “Anyways, got any clue where your dick brother would have brought Sam and Gabriel?”

Castiel shook his head, before he remembered his other so-called dick brother. Michael. “I don't, however, Michael might have an idea.”

“Lemme guess, another brother?” Dean said, receiving a tiny nod from Castiel, “Your family is pretty weird with all that Biblical shit. Are Michael and Lucifer nemeses in real life, like they are in the Bible? I mean, Lucifer is already pretty evil so he suits his name pretty well.”

“Ironically, they are. Are you familiar with the Bible Dean? I apologize, however I never perceived you as the religious type.” Castiel explained.

Castiel felt like he hit a sensitive spot in Dean, and could feel the air change between them. Not into the intense sadness, like they had shared in the bar. However, more like a sweet melancholy mood. “I was never into all that crap. Never have been. But my mom was. Well, she wasn't really religious, she just loved angels. She was just spiritual. She would tell these glorious stories of the angels. About the archangels. Michael, Raphael, Gabriel and Lucifer were all beautiful archangels. Lucifer and Michael fought over the favor of their Father, but Lucifer despised the Human Beings, so his wings were torn from him, and he went spiraling from the heavens, to the earth, and below its crust. In the center of the earth, he was burning, so intensely, so fiercely, that his burning body alone created Hell.” Dean seemed to snap out of it, and sounded embarrassed as he went on, “My mom told it better.”

It was strange that up until this point, Castiel had forgotten all that he had found out about Sam when he had researched him in his search for the man. His mother had died when he was a baby. And on that note, didn't he have a brother who had committed two terrifying crimes? Murder and rape. Dean was that brother, but Castiel couldn't possibly see Dean killing without reason, and he knew that this man would never rape.

Castiel stood up, since Dean was now standing. It felt more comfortable. Castiel felt like he was too close to Dean, but the other didn't say anything of it. He monotonously explained to the other, “My family has always been very religious. My father wasn't too bad, but he wasn't there for most of my life. My uncle on the other hand was very forceful with his conservative and traditional views, and he would make us all go to church every single Sunday. I remember he would force me to come to services where several people would pray over me to the point that they would knock me down to the floor. They were trying to rid me of my _disease_. Maybe God would allow me to see if they prayed hard enough. He blamed my blindness on my birth, which in itself was a sin since I murdered my mother. I was born prematurely and my mother died of childbirth because of the loss of blood.”

Surely, they were much too close now, right? Dean was right in front of him. He could feel his hot breath on his nose. Dean was just a few inches taller than him then. Their breaths mingled between them as they stood there in the burning silence. Castiel didn't know what to do with himself. He was furious that he could not just simply _read_ Dean's facial expressions, really look into his eyes and know what he was thinking. It was frustrating and he felt very uneasy this way. Uncertain.

“I'm sorry man.” Dean finally spoke, his rough voice much too close to Castiel now, “My experience with religion is pretty crappy too. God never answered my damn prayers. Angels never watched over my brother and I. For whatever reason, Sam has always had a lot of faith. Glad he does, but personally, I feel like if anything is watching me, it's those demons, and the leader of the demons. Like Lucifer for example.”

Silence filled the void again. Castiel couldn't take it anymore though. Instead, he leaned over to his left to grab the cooled down cup of coffee that Dean had set down. He brought it to his lips and slowly drank the bitter beverage. At least it wasn't scalding hot like it had been before.

Dean awkwardly coughed, “Sorry, I don't do coffee well. Always liked it strong. Anyways, I gotta go. I figured you would need a few things I need to grab from Gabriel's. This place has four rooms. I know, pretty big for a lonely guy like me. But two of the rooms are set up as guest rooms, and the other two are for me. My bedroom, and my 'study' if you will call it. You can claim whichever guest room you want. They are the last two rooms on either side of the hall upstairs. Do you need anything specifically?”

Castiel frowned before remembering something, “I do actually. Sam brought me to a coffee shop, and I dropped my cane there when we left in a hurry. I'm not sure what the name of the shop is.”

“Ah yeah man. I know the name. Sam's a picky fucker for his quote on quote _coffee_. I'll grab that and your stuff at Gabriel's. Might stop by a few stores too. So I'll be gone awhile. But you got my number still right?” Castiel nodded, reaching into his pocket to feel the slip of paper, “Okay, if you need to call, the phone is right next to where your coffee was. I'll be back in a few.”

Dean spared no time in walking out of the house. Castiel stood alone in Dean's rather oversized home, and attempted to sort through his thoughts calmly. Alone, he tried to make sense of why Dean had been convicted of murder and rape. It made no sense, and honestly, it made Castiel weary despite how safe he felt here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title from the song "Devil May Cry" from The Weekend, which is from the new Hunger Games movie soundtrack. . . which I have not watched yet but hey I have heard happy things from it!!! (jk jk shhh no spoils)
> 
> Also, what would you guys think if I switched up the POV for a few chapters? I feel like I am kind of on a repetitive roadblock with Castiel here. I want to delve into other characters' stories and shit, I just feel like it will be a lot harder when I am always in Castiel's shoes. Tell me what you all think though! It might be easier for me, but it might mess up the flow. So readers' vote, okay . . . GO!! 
> 
> (BTW HAPPY HOLIDAYS AND I LOVE YOU HAVE A GOOD ONE IN CASE I CANNOT UPLOAD NEXT WEEK KAY? KAY!)


	11. Demons Hide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel remembers bad things that have happened to him in gruesome detail. He calls Michael and Dean notices that something is up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: physical and emotional abuse, suicide attempts, and just not good stuff. 
> 
> I took a little break for Christmas you guys. I had to, we haven't had internet since Christmas Break began, since before our vacation. We have been relying on Xfinity, but it's strongest on the other side of the house from the computer. Without my laptop, I have no easy ay of updating this unless I tether my phone's data to the computer, which is not a fun idea since I'm super limited on data as it is. BUT I AM DETERMINED. Not having internet brings up mixed feelings in me honestly. I got a whole new train of thought when it comes to this fic and my ideas, and I have written four chapters ahead of this. But at the same time, I need the internet to look up things because detail. (But if I had access to it so easily I would just end up goofing around on Tumblr haha;; ) ANYWAYS ENJOY THIS CHAPTER!

His cane was propped up against his bed. He had clothes that Gabriel had bought him folded in the dresser. He even had the few braille books on his end table that he had collected since he had moved in with Gabriel. Not to mention, his slate and stylus, and the papers he'd written notes on.

Curled up in a fetal position, Castiel tugged the pillows closer to his body as he tried to fall asleep. It was a useless attempt however, as he was kept awake with thoughts that pulled him back to reality. The same old thoughts came to haunt him every night. It seemed that his days have been too busy for them lately. One vivid memory in particular was playing through his mind in a loop.

He had been fifteen years old, and was still getting accustomed to life without either Gabriel or Anna. It was an extremely hot summer day, and Castiel had decided to go outside to get some fresh air. He sat down on the steps leading from the porch in the backyard, and had just breathed in the still, stale, and hot air of the summer day. The heat was burning into him, though this feeling seemed to remind him that he was indeed alive and well. That he was _here_. The faint smell of charcoal, barbeques, and chlorine reminded him of the fun summer activities that he would be participating in if his family wasn't made up of closed in, violent assholes. He was sitting there, remembering the times when Gabriel and Anna were around. They would at least try, when he was very young, to make all the seasons fun.

In the winter, they would bring Castiel outside as a kid and throw snowballs at each other. It wasn't too hard to hit them surprisingly, since they were so loud. In the spring, they would escape from the confinements of the house and of the city, and would go out into the forest to explore. Castiel had loved the fresh smell of spring, the sounds of animals alive in the wilderness, the fluttering wings of birds and of their gorgeous songs. In the autumn, they would run into the backyard and gather all the leaves in a huge pile, and shove each other into it with bursts of laughter.

And on days like this, Gabriel would cook hamburgers and hot dogs. Or Anna and Castiel would turn on the sprinklers and run around in them. They would go pretend camping in the tent in their own backyard. He remembered one night Gabriel and Anna had gotten excited about fireflies, and tried to show Castiel until they realized that he wouldn't be able to see them. He just laughed and said it was alright since he liked the sound of crickets.

On this particular day though, Castiel sat there without a sound around him. Everything was deathly still. He was lost in thought, stuck in his past while the seconds ticked forward to his future. He had been so involved with his own thoughts, that he hadn't heard the steps on the wooden porch until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Castiel jumped, startled by the sudden contact.

He heard Michael's dry laugh, and sourly turned away from the person. Michael walked around Castiel, then sat by his side, making himself comfortable, as if he had the right to do so. “Great weather. But what's the point of staying out here just to get drenched in sweat?”

Castiel had sighed. What was so clear to him, was so delusional to Michael. He kept quiet, not wanting to cause an unnecessary scene with Michael right now.

Michael snapped, “Castiel,” He said firmly, “I asked why do you feel the need to come out here? You know, you should really be in your room studying. There is absolutely no point to this.”

Sometimes it felt like Castiel lived in a family full of heartless monsters. Even Gabriel and Anna could act so cold-hearted at times. Castiel must be dysfunctional then, since he was so easily moved and cared so much for everything. He was such an emotional creature compared to the rest of his family, and sometimes it felt like he was just an alien posing as this action figure who was the real Castiel. He was supposed to be intelligent, bright, quick, and perfect. Not this _mess_ of a disabled child.

“I just need some air.” Castiel bit out quietly, wanting to yell at his elder brother, yet knowing better than to do so.

“Oh come now,” Michael protested, sounding angry, “There's plenty more air in the house than out here. In fact, there's hardly any air out here. What's your real reason, huh Castiel?” He asked mockingly, grabbing Castiel tightly by the shoulders. “What? Are you thinking about how alone you are? Because everyone left you? Gabriel got sick of you and Anna real quick, and even Anna was feeling burdened by you. They both left _you,_ Castiel. It's only a matter of time before we all get sick of you too, you know. It's better if you just lock yourself away in your room forever Castiel. You might be able to stay if you're well behaved and don't cause any trouble.”

“Shut up!” Castiel finally broke under the pressure, under the accusations. These were the feelings that had always weighed him down. He had hoped that it was all in his head, that those thoughts had been configured within his own mind without meaning, but here Michael was confirming them all aloud.

He could hear Michael chuckle, before he yanked Castiel roughly to his feet, holding him up in the air by his sweat drenched shirt, “Bingo.” He muttered, “It's scary, isn't Cassie? To be held up like this, totally and utterly helpless? This is how you feel all the time huh? Mentally at least. Let me assure you now kiddo,” Michael grunted, still holding Castiel up, now speaking lowly so that only Castiel could hear him in case anyone else happened to be around, “Your life is always going to feel like this. You might as well just give it up now and get rid of yourself. You know it's for the best. It's already pretty clear that nobody wants you here. I'd kill you myself if it didn't risk my reputation. How about you just make it easier on us all and just leave the world once and for all, huh?”

Michael threw Castiel off the porch, and onto the concrete, cackling as he walked back into the house, clearly pleased with himself. Castiel felt dizzy and couldn't shake those horrible words out of his mind. He had been told that he was a burden, and that he was worthless, but this was the first time anyone had gone so far as saying that he should kill himself. Michael had planted those thoughts in his mind, had made it clear that there was nobody that wanted Castiel.

With bleeding elbows, from the scrapes that had formed from his fall, Castiel stood up slowly and aimlessly looked for the stairs back into the house. He started staying in his room a lot more from that moment on.

It had only been a year ago. Since the incident with Michael, Castiel had become increasingly depressed. On this particular day, though fuzzy to Castiel's mind it was also fresh with details. He had been in his room, reading some book about otherworldly fantasies that had always inspired him and impressed him, putting him in awe.

His uncle had barged into the room, passing through the threshold without a knock to the door. He hauled Castiel up to his feet, yanking on his arm with his meaty hand, nearly crushing his bones with the force he used. “How dare you!?!” Zachariah screamed in his face, “What kind of damned retard can't ace a trigonometry course?!?”

Castiel felt himself be thrown to the floor, and he instantly curled up on himself in order to make himself appear smaller, wanting to hide from the blows he knew that Zachariah would shower upon him.

“No goddamned Novak is going to get a _C_ in one of his classes! What's this!?” The sound of fluttering pages whooshed up into the air, and Castiel understood immediately that his uncle had his book in his hand, “A fucking fantasy book!? Why don't you do yourself some good and read something that actually matters? That's real? Like the Bible! Not this nonsense fantasy shit!”

Castiel cringed when he felt Zachariah slam the book to his spine, and bit down harshly on his lip when he threw the book to the side, surely tearing pages out of the book while he was at it. The fists came. Hitting on his arms, his head, his sides. Then the man started to use his feet, digging his dress shoes into Castiel's ribs, his chest. And then the face. Castiel's head was thrown back at the force at which his uncle's foot hit his face, and he screamed in agony. His foot had connected right with his nose, and he instantly felt the effects from it, blood dripping from his nose at an impressive pace.

The kicks continued to rain upon him. Kick after kick, the pain was reeling from beneath his skin, deep in his bones, a seemingly spiraling madness that spread throughout his entire body, through a linking series of nerves.

When the physical pain finally died down, Castiel found no relief in the words that Zachariah spat at him, that he knew would burn within his mind forever.

“You worthless piece of shit! I don't know why I bother on such a hopeless _thing_. You act like you have the right to be here, to exist. You should be on your knees in gratefulness that I allow you to live here at all. Broken kids are found on the street all the time, and you could be right there with them. But no, you sit here and read this nonsense, and then earn C's in your classes. This is it. I'm taking away all your books, except the Bible. And you don't get them back until you get straight A's throughout all of your classes.”

Castiel sobbed as his uncle snatched his books away from his shelves in a flurry of madness. At the time, he didn't know how he would be able to go on without his books. They were precious to him. Yes, they were works of fiction, and there was no chance of them ever coming true, but he knew they were the best he was going to get to seeing the world. To really experiencing life events that he should be involved in, but couldn't because he was blind.

He lay there for awhile after his uncle left. Those words a fresh cut in the sea of scars upon his mind, his heart. He was broken. Worthless. Ungrateful. _Nothing_ . Michael’s words from two years ago rang throughout his mind. . . _Get rid of yourself. . . nobody wants you. . ._

They echoed. Everything echoed in his mind. It was too much. Too much. He couldn't bear the overwhelming feelings that were being chained down to his heart, boxed off in a cell for so long, so much more being cramped in that small space. It was pounding in his body until it ached, it ached with so much more than the pain from the beatings he received. Now it ached from a whole other source, one that was so much more powerful that the physical pain. This was mental, this was spiritual. It throbbed with an angry fire, and he could feel those feelings ram themselves against the bars of the cell that he had locked them away. And they were so close. . . so close. . .

And they furiously exploded from the confinements Castiel had locked them away in. They poured out like an angry flow of lava, searing the pain and the fury and the sorrow into Castiel's soul all at once. They consumed his mind, his heart, fogging his brain to the best of their ability, ridding of any sense he had.

And he couldn't take it anymore.

Castiel stumbled to his feet, hot blood still steadily flowing from his nose, and with his arm covering his nose, he walked down the hall in a daze, until he finally reached the bathroom. He opened the door, and fumbled with the lock once he closed the door behind him. Once it clicked, he turned on the shower until it was icy cold. Maybe, if he had the water cold, it would freeze those feelings that bounced in a hopeless frenzy. Maybe, the water would wake him up from the emotions that drowned him. That suffocated him. Their greedy hands dragging him down under, cutting his air supply with their claws twisting around the flesh of his neck. . .

He rid himself of his clothes, and stepped into the shower. The water spiked into his skin, so cold that it burned. He shivered as he tried to think, but how could he with all these feelings inside him? How was he expected to sort through his thoughts like this? When he was so overwhelmed with emotion. There was no escape from it.

But there was, wasn't there? It would be better after all. If he just ceased to exist. Michael had said it himself. He wasn't important, he was just scum of the earth. Castiel would never be happy when he was relying on others for the rest of his life. He should die. Die. Die. Die. Echoing through his mind. The three lettered word repeated within his mind with every beat of his heart. It was such a simple word, but what did it really mean? What would happen?

Whatever it was that would happen, it was better than being here. It was the only way he could get away from these feelings that consumed him.

Castiel searched with his hands for his razor. He found it, but dropped it on the ground of the tub. He must have looked like a mess. A scrawny and naked body, on its hands and knees, his wet hair matted to his forehead, blood still smeared on his face from the bloody nose, scrambling for the razor he had dropped on the floor of the shower. He must look ridiculous.

It didn't seem to matter once he found what he was looking for. With shaky hands, he took the safety cap off the razor, and sucked in a deep breath. The words rang within his mind again. Except this time, they were his own. _I don't deserve anything. No matter how hard I'll try, I'll fail. Everyone has been right about me. I'm not worth a goddamned thing. I exist only to bother others. I should just die. I can't run away from it anymore. If I die, I won't have to. I'll just stop being. And if Heaven and Hell really exists, then I deserve to burn for an eternity._

He pressed the blades on his skin, and quickly swiped it across the flesh of his wrist. It burned a lot, and the cold water made it worse. But now Castiel was working in a hopeless flurry, as he swiped the blades of the razor across his wrists over and over again, angrily venting. It was the first time he had ever dealt such permanent self harm on himself.

Gabriel had told him, when he was older, that every time he fell or got hurt, he would find scratch marks on him. That when he found Castiel, he would either be ripping his hair out in handfuls, or he would be scratching his face with his long nails, creating small scars on his face and crescents on his arms. Gabriel never said anything at the time, but he would always look at him with worried eyes, and he told Castiel at the time to never do that to himself, that he deserved so much more, and that he was perfect the way he was. That Gabriel wouldn't be who he was unless Castiel was who he was, even if that meant he was blind and helpless and imperfect. That it was alright.

Turmoil raged within his mind and his heart. Castiel slumped down onto the floor, curling in on himself. Gabriel wasn't here anymore. Anna wasn't here anymore. Everyone he had loved had left him. There must be a reason. There was something wrong with him. More than his blindness, more than his neediness. It had to do with his entire being.

Everything grows fuzzy from that point on. He must have passed out, since the next time he wakes up, he is propped in his bed, with bandages on his wrists. It seemed as though he was well cared for. However nobody ever said anything of it. Somebody had to have taken care of him though. Perhaps there was one kind soul within that house. . .

He catches up with real time again. Castiel woke up groggily from his uneasy sleep. His memories had ran with him all night long, and as a result he hardly rested at all. He was back at Dean's house, in his guest room. He climbed out of the bed and began to stretch, easing his muscles from the long night of twisting and turning in his bed.

Castiel exits the room, still in his boxers and his T-shirt, and pads into the kitchen, where he smells the wonderful scent of breakfast being cooked. Bacon, eggs, pancakes. It smells wonderful. He could hear Dean humming a familiar song, though he can't quite place what song it is. It's lovely though. The tune is soft and it sounds like it's a bit outdated. And Dean sounds pretty happy as he hums it, his voice is low and lovely, complimenting the song quite well.

He finally interrupts him with a small cough, and Dean seems happily surprised as he greets Castiel, “'Morning sunshine.” He must have turn around now, “Whoa! Doesn't look like you slept well. Bad first night at a new place? I am pretty accustomed to sleeping at new places. We moved around a lot when we were kids so I'm used to it.”

He sensed that wasn't the complete truth, however he nodded tiredly, “Just a lot of bad memories. At least I slept at all.” Castiel and Dean were both quiet until Castiel asked, though he knew the answer, “What are you cooking? 'Smells great.”

“Ah, yeah! Well, since it's such an important day, I'm making pancakes, eggs and of course, bacon!” Castiel thought it was odd that he had sensed what Dean was cooking in the complete opposite order. It was most likely because of which foods smelled the strongest. Bacon was easily detected, eggs had an ordinary scent, while pancakes had a faint smell unless they were already lathered with butter and syrup. When they were cooking though, it was hard to tell, especially while bacon and eggs were being made.

“What is the occasion?” Castiel asked a bit wearily, feeling a bit out of the loop on this particular day.

“Well, it's your first day here. I gotta butter you up now before I slack off later.” Dean explained as if it was such a simple concept to grasp. “It's something people do subconsciously when they first become roommates.” He clarified.

“I see. I assume it's to keep the other roommate around then, right?” Castiel asked, trying hard to understand.

Dean made an approval sound, then continued to cook. “You can take a seat, I'm just about done with breakfast.”

Castiel sat down and waited as Dean served both Castiel and himself. He smiled as he awkwardly twirled his fork around, until he asked, “Do you think you would be kind enough to tell me what food is where on the plate? My brother usually tells me it like a clock. I would just try to dig in, however, I'd rather not stab at nothing. Or try to tell what is where with my hands. . . I'd rather not make a mess with syrup.”

“Oh shit, right. Okay, so from your point of view. Alright. Pancakes are at six o'clock, eggs are at eleven o'clock, and bacon is at two o'clock?” Dean said, questioning his own accuracy with the clock.

Castiel reached for a piece of bacon, and was glad to find it exactly where Dean told him it was. He took it and bit into it, happy with how good the bacon was. It had been awhile since he had had bacon.

“Going straight for the good shit.” Dean stated with a chuckle, sounding like his own mouth was stuffed as he said that.

Castiel took the time to eat some eggs then cut into his pancakes. He was pleasantly surprised when he tasted a chocolate piece in the pancake, and he instantly ate more of the pancakes and was extremely happy with the food.

“You like that? I'm gonna hope your not allergic to chocolate or some shit.” Dean modestly commented, awkwardly laughing.

“It's excellent. The eggs are also extraordinary. Thank you very much Dean. I haven't had such a good breakfast in such a long time.”

“Heh, it's no problem.” Dean muttered, then he seemed to be surprised when he said, “Oh shit, I gotta go. I have work and I need to be there in ten minutes!”

Castiel laughed a little bit, “That's fine. You better hurry. When will you be back?” He wondered where Dean worked, though kept quiet about his questions since he knew that Dean would be late if he asked too many.

“I should get off at around 3 o'clock, but I might run some errands too. You can call if you need anything, but I work at the auto shop across town, so I might not hear you call at first.” Dean explained, putting his plate away in the sink, and rushing out of the kitchen to grab his stuff.

Castiel was impressed that Dean had answered his question without him even needing to ask it. “Alright,” He said, smiling, “I'll keep that in mind if I feel the need to call you.”

“Alright, bye Cas!” Dean said breezily, before escaping from the house.

Castiel shook his head as he listened to the strangely comforting sound of the Impala starting up. It was odd how at home he already felt here with Dean. It had at least taken him a few days to feel so comfortable with Gabriel.

“Hello, this is Michelle from Arch Industries. How may I help you?”

“I would like to speak to Michael Novak.”

“Alright sir, we only have meetings set for next week for phone conferences. Would you like to schedule one?”

“Uhm, actually, this is his brother, Castiel. Do you think you could put me on the phone with him now?”

“Oh alright! He said that he was expecting you to call. Would you mind waiting on hold while I transfer your call to Michael?”

“No I don't mind. Thank you.”

Castiel waited, his hands shaking as he waited with the sound of calming music on the phone. He wasn't exactly enthused to speak to Michael. He knew that biting words would be thrown at him again, and he wasn't sure how he would handle them after a little over a month with such kind people surrounding him. Other than Lucifer that was. Which is why he was calling in the first place.

“Hello Cas, I was wondering when you'd call.” Michael sneered over the line. He sounded snobbier that usual, which was shocking.

Also since when did Michael call him Cas? Dean had been the first one who had called him that. He felt a sting of anger over that, but bit it down for now. There were more important matters at hand. “Michael. I'm calling to ask you information regarding Lucifer-”

“I know why you called Castiel.” Michael interrupted coldly, “The real question, is why would I want to help you? There's nothing in this for me. Oh yes, poor Gabriel is in danger, so is your friend. But honestly, I never liked Gabriel, and Sam Winchester is a monster.”

Castiel gritted his teeth in anger, “You hate Lucifer the worst though right?”

“Of course I do, where have you been Castiel?” Michael laughed, “Why?”

“So you should know that Lucifer will stop at nothing to get Sam Winchester. If you help me get him out of his clutches, you would crush Lucifer.” Although Castiel didn't understand exactly why Lucifer was so intent in capturing Sam at all to be honest.

“So you're saying,” Michael's snobbishness was back, “That if I help you, I'll _crush_ Lucifer? Oh brother, you're as ignorant as ever. I know what would _obliterate_ Luci. If you gave me Dean Winchester. Let's say if I help you, then you have to give me little Dean. Sounds like more than a fair trade. That's giving me one person, so you could have two!”

Castiel froze. There was no way he could ever do that. He felt a chill sweep through him as he thought about how Dean would react. He would instantly say yes. He couldn't risk Dean though. It wasn't right. He couldn't know about this. He didn't understand why Lucifer wanted Sam, and why Michael would want Dean, but he knew that if it were these two men, something terrible was up.

“No.”

Michael laughed again, the laugh so fake it made Castiel cringe, “No? Oh _Cas_ ,” He said it so deliberately that he must be mocking him, “Why must you make things so complicated?”

“Why do you even want Dean?” Castiel bit back, angry and frustrated with his lack of understanding.

“Well,” Michael seemed to drawl out, “I suppose neither Luci or I want the boys themselves, but rather the power they hold. They'll draw people in. People with power. If we have them, then their daddy will fetch them and fall into our hands. Well, I suppose if he didn't come, then at least their uncle would. They're important pieces to a puzzle that's bigger than you can possibly imagine.”

“Why would you want them?” Castiel asked, baffled by what Michael was saying.

Michael sighed, as if upset with Castiel's slowness, “Again, it's all part of a bigger scheme Cassie. A bigger picture that you couldn't comprehend no matter how hard you tried. Look, if you're not going to hand over Dean, how about this? I'll help you as long as you come to me immediately afterwards, and then confess to the police that you had kidnapped Gabriel and Sam. Sure they'll be baffled since you are blind, but hey they'll lock you up anyways. I know you don't like being imprisoned Cas, but you know it's for the best. Might as well, this taste of freedom is getting to your head.”

It was difficult for Castiel to finally agree. He was shaking badly now. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life in jail. He didn't want to be locked away forever. But he couldn't screw up other people's lives anymore. He had to save Gabriel. Sam Winchester and Dean Winchester too. He had no other choice in the end.

“Alright.”

Dean had made Alfredo noodles for dinner. Along with the dish, he had also made salad and garlic bread. He spoke about how at work he had gotten an angry customer who had cussed him out, and laughed about it. Soon he noticed that Castiel's mind was elsewhere, and asked, “What's up Cas?”

Castiel startled out of his thoughts and admitted, “I called Michael today about the situation concerning Gabriel and Sam.”

“Oh shit. How'd that go man?” Dean asked cautiously.

“Well, he's going to send me the whereabouts of Sam and Gabriel. From there though, we are on our own.” Castiel summed up briefly, hesitant to give any details at this moment.

“Wow.” Dean said, “You work fast. How'd you get him to be on our side man?”

“Well, he was ready to talk to me about it since he hates Lucifer and wants to screw with him.” Castiel explained absentmindedly.

“See, that's good?” Dean said enthusiastically, “We're getting somewhere at least. Hey Cas, don't look so down. We're going to get them out of there. Sam and Gabriel. They'll be fine.”

Castiel nodded, glad that he wasn't doing this all alone. He didn't know what he would be doing without Dean's strength and encouraging words beside him. He would be as helpless as usual. He would have no idea how to deal with this. . .

Once dinner was done, Dean loaded the dishwasher, and they went out into the family room to watch television. Dean sat at one end of the couch, probably sitting back with the remote in hand, laughing at the comedic Christmas movie they were watching. Castiel sat at the other end, his knees pulled up to his chin since he was a little cold.

During a commercial, Dean must have noticed that something was still wrong with Castiel, since he asked, “Hey Cas, are you alright man? What's wrong?”

The memories from last night were eating away at his mind. They were bugging him, especially after the phone call he had had with Michael. He tried to shove those feelings away, to hide them from Dean. He was sick of being so weak. Of being so vulnerable. It was too terrifying. He knew that if he said anything then he would break.

The television stops making noise, and Dean scoots closer to Castiel. In an attempt of comfort, he places his hand on Castiel's shoulder, and urges him gently, “Come on Cas, I'm all ears.”

Perhaps it was just the memories, or maybe the softness of that kind human contact, but Castiel broke, right there and then.

He told Dean everything in broken syllables, in between sobs or hiccups. He spoke fast, not missing a beat as he thought about the humiliation that Dean would surely show him, teasing him, laughing at him. He didn't want to hear it. He couldn't bear to imagine Dean being just as monstrous as nearly everyone else he knew. Yet knowing how his life normally worked, that would surely be the case.

He tells him about how it was his fault his mother died. How his father left them all at an early age. How Zachariah stepped in to take his father's place as their caretaker. How Michael and Lucifer fought with each other. How Gabriel and Anna nurtured him. How Zachariah would secretly hit him and tear him down since the time he was young. How Michael and Lucifer coldly ignored him or nastily spoke to him when they did notice him. How Gabriel left him and Anna that one day. How he suffered countless acts of abuse once Gabriel had left. How Anna dreamed of leaving. How her wish was granted. How he was left behind for the third time in his life, perhaps the forth if he counted his mother. How Michael and Lucifer had accidentally thrown him down the steps when they had fought over him. How Naomi stepped into their lives. How Michael had told Castiel he should kill himself. How Castiel attempted to do so. How Castiel isolated himself as much as he could. He tells him of all the horrible physical and mental trauma he has been through with his family, sobbing all the way through, not allowing Dean to say a word throughout it all.

When Castiel finishes, he's shaking uncontrollably. His hands are clasped tightly within each other. His eyes burn from all the tears that have already flown out. He shuts his mouth tightly, not daring to speak a word as he waits for the reaction. Would it be laughter? Embarrassment? . . . _Anger_?

He flinches when he feels arms loop around him, and hold him close. They are sturdy, strong, reliable. They're Dean's. Castiel is frozen as the arms are circled around him, feeling Dean's nose in the nook between his neck and shoulder, breathing in deeply. The scruff of Dean's jaw scratches against the bare skin on Castiel's neck and collar bone. He feels the other man shaking as he holds Castiel.

He finally seems to regain his senses, and reaches out to hold Dean back. They're both shaking now, and Castiel is grateful for this reaction. No words are spoken. No gestures that he can't see are shown. Something he could feel the truth and raw emotion in. He finds a warm spot at Dean's shoulder, and heavily breathes in his scent. More comforting now than ever.

“Fuck them all Cas,” Dean finally whispers, after several minutes of holding Castiel in this way, still holding onto him as he spoke. “They are all pieces of shit. Your uncle and aunt. Your brothers. Especially Michael. Fuck that guy. It's not fair. You don't deserve this. Goddammit, I've only known you for a little while and I know you are an amazing person.”

Castiel is shivering as he listens to those well meaning words. He doesn't attempt to figure out if they are true or not, whether to Dean or to himself. He merely soaks them in, holding onto them like sacred pieces of a ridiculous puzzle. He will keep them, cherish them. Hopefully theses few words would overpower the millions of bad ones that looped in his mind on repeat all throughout each and every day. He felt that Dean was an important person, and that his words would be much more meaningful to him than the ones his family had said to him. He already felt so close to him. Castiel just hoped that he wouldn't regret breaking before Dean Winchester.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from the song Demons by Imagine Dragons.


	12. Ignite Your Bones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff that makes up for the last chapter. Castiel and Dean are cute and bounce around like fluffy little bunnies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's like 4 AM here, but if I didn't post this chapter now, you guys would have to wait until 5 PM. (Or possibly by tomorrow because then I might forget to post this by that point.) So while my internet was failing me, I took it upon myself to start writing ahead as much as I possibly could, and I really think I have done well. I have written all the way to chapter 15, and pretty much my process is this. . . Think of an idea, talk to myself aloud, get more ideas, act the ideas out with myself, note them down, actually write them. The last step is always the most difficult to accomplish. 
> 
> Also I am warning you all right now, that there are going to be some very potential trigger warning things happening in chapters 14 through 15, and most likely mentions of it in chapters 16 and 17. It involves explicit details of rape, and I was thinking about not mentioning anything until I got to that point of the story, (I've only just got this point myself otherwise I would have mentioned and tagged it much earlier) however I know that a lot of people do not enjoy those kinds of scenes and I want you all to feel comfortable. For those chapters I will leave a vague summary as to what happened, and how characters interacted and felt. If this concerns you, please just let me know in the comments, the last thing I want to do is to make you worry over my fanfiction.
> 
> With all of that out of the way, I will leave you to it so that you can read this and enjoy! As the summary says, this is a total unplanned fluff chapter, since the last one hit home pretty steadily for me, and I needed something to soften the blow.
> 
> (I will be changing the tags later on so that it goes from Mature to Explicit by the way, that way people aren't misled. And I am going to check the non-con box as well. Sorry for everything, also sorry I'm such an asshole of an author to your precious babies. Be very afraid.)

Castiel felt a little lost as Dean rushed around the house, buzzing away in his own world where everything was fast paced and seen. “Wait,” He attempted to catch Dean's bouncing attention, “Are you sure you want us _both_ to go shopping? I am just a burden when it comes to this.”

He could feel Dean's undivided attention suddenly zeroed in on him, and could literally feel him rush at him in full speed, “You won't be a burden Cas. You never could be. Come on, it'll be fun. We gotta pick up some food for the week, then we are going to the mall and getting you some clothes. Your wardrobe is bland as hell.”

“It's like that for a reason. . .” Castiel muttered, “It's to make it easier for me to pick out clothes without accidentally mismatching them.”

“Yeah, I get that, but I read online that they have these labeling things that print out braille instantly. So I am gonna start labeling things for you. Your clothes, food, cupboards, drawers, all that shit.” Dean explained urgently, “Anyways, we have to eat before all that. I'll make some food. . . How about my specialty, Lucky Charms?”

Castiel chuckled, but nodded. He was extremely happy that Dean was trying so hard to make him comfortable, but he wasn't sure how long he was going to be staying with Dean. How long did Dean expect him to stay if he was going to start labeling things? He was too kind to him. He followed Dean into the kitchen, only bumping into one end table on the way. He was getting better at navigating his way through Dean's house.

“You cook well,” Castiel said after he had eaten a few spoonfuls of Lucky Charms, “I don't mean this,” He said gesturing to his cereal, “I mean all the other times you've cooked have been very delicious. Do you cook often?”

Dean seemed to be finishing chewing his cereal, “Well, a lot of the time, I'd have to cook for Sammy and I, sometimes my Dad if he was around too. I usually did all the cooking. I remember barbequing for Sammy and my Uncle Bobby when my Dad left us with him. It was fucking great man.”

Castiel's attention was caught when Dean mentioned his uncle. It had been the first time he had said anything about him, and more importantly, Michael had mentioned him in his great scheme. “You're Uncle Bobby?” Castiel asked, trying to seem casual.

Shockingly, it worked. Through a full mouth of cereal, Dean mumbled, “Yeah man. He used to look after Sammy and I occasionally when we were too young to be left alone. He's a hell of a guy. More of a father to me than my biological dad. You'd like him, he is like a walking book full of knowledge about all these legends and a ton of folklore.”

Castiel nodded absentmindedly, his mind still stuck on what Michael had said. What would he need Dean and Sam's father and uncle for? What was so important about them. Why would they be needed at all? He wondered if they were really needed at all, or if Dean and Sam alone were the keys to their likely evil plans.

“Whoa, Cas! Look dude!” Castiel turned his attention towards Dean as he heard the sound of something rattling softly in front of him. He tilted his head to the side, listening hard as he tried to figure out what Dean was holding in front of him.

“Uhm Dean. . .” He said blandly.

“Oh! Right! Shit. Sorry, my bad! Uhm, it's a box of cake mix, it's like super fluffy. I want to buy it, because it looks amazing and everyone needs a little sweetness in their lives.” Dean explained energetically. He was like a five year old kid, enthusing about cake mix the way he was.

“What brand is it?” Castiel asked patiently, smiling at Dean's energy. It was a nice change of pace from those tense moments with Gabriel, or those long agonizing times with the rest of his family.

“Uhm,” Dean seemed to be shifting the box so he could see the label which indicated the brand, “It's Pillsbury!”

“Yes, it should be quite fluffy if cooked appropriately.” Castiel said, “I'll wait for the surprise cake attack then.” He added with a chuckle.

The two walk down the aisle of the grocery store, Dean stops every once and awhile to point out a food that he wants to buy, or that he thinks sounds good. Castiel smiles at the man's excitement, and he feels himself loosen up. They seemed to be getting along, and perhaps that was just because of the incident from yesterday, but whatever it was, he felt comfortable in his own skin. For the first time since he was a child, he wasn't worrying and he didn't feel out of place.

Perhaps it was because of this casual feeling, that Castiel was more careless as he swung his cane in front of him. And maybe that was why he hit something, just to discover moments later it was a _somebody_ , since the sound of a surprised wail came from the person.

“Oh my god! You just hit my daughter!” A woman screamed, and he could hear the sound of her heels rushing to the person who was crying. Crap. It sounded like a kid. He had just whacked a little girl with his cane. He wondered how out of it he had missed the sound of this woman's heels on the tiled floor.

Castiel was at loss as to what to say, but luckily Dean was there to step in for him, “We're sorry ma’am. You see my friend here can't see and he was using the cane as a means to get around. He hadn't meant to hit your kid and we're really very sorry.”

The woman seemed angry and she snapped, “What, is he dumb too? Why doesn't he speak up for himself!?”

Castiel felt appalled by this woman's attitude, though he was sure it was because of the distress she felt when she heard her child scream. Hopefully. He walked closer to the child and her mother, and kneeled down, “I am very sorry, are you alright? How can I make it up to you?”

The girl sounded snotty as she cried, “It's okay. It was an accident. It just hurts a lot.”

Castiel felt terrible, but he felt Dean nudge his back with his foot, and he turned his head towards him. Dean must have bent down to their level and he felt Dean sneak something in a wrapper into the palm of his hand, and he smiled as he realized it must be a piece of candy.

“Here, to make it up to you, if your mother doesn't mind, have this.” He said, handing the girl the piece of candy. By the shape of it it felt like a peppermint candy.

He could hear the mother make an approving sound, and the girl reached out for it excitedly. “Thank you mister. I hope your eyes get better.”

Castiel laughed at that, but nodded and then stood up. He held onto his cane more tightly as he continued to walk throughout the store, still feeling entirely guilty about hitting the sweet little girl and making her mother so angry.

He noticed that Dean was very quiet since they left them, and he felt worry eat at him again, wondering what he had done to put Dean off. He frowned as he asked, “Are you alright Dean?” He felt nervous, though he now knew what a good person Dean was, as he was still standing by his side despite everything he had told him.

Dean seemed caught off guard as he replied, “Oh yeah, I'm fine. I was just thinking about how well you handled that. Even though that girl's mom was kind of a bitch.” He said lowly with an uneasy sounding chuckle.

He wondered what was wrong, but he nodded and explained, “She was probably just worried about her child's well being and in the moment was angry. I am sure she isn't usually that terrifying. You would have reacted the same way if a stranger whacked Sam with a cane when he was young.”

He could hear Dean hum as he thought over it, “Yeah, I guess you're right. Still the whole dumb thing was a bit over the edge. I don't think I would have gone that far.”

Castiel nodded in agreement. It was true, Castiel couldn't imagine Dean saying that to any stranger, unless he knew the intentions of that stranger was to harm Sam.

With a shopping cart full of more than enough food, the two aimed their way to the check out line in a comfortable silence. Though Castiel was still more cautious than usual with his actions. He wonders how long they'll have to wait in line until they could buy the food.

As they inch forward, Castiel hears girls giggling a little behind them. At first he thinks nothing of it until he hears one of the girls mutter, “Go ask him out!” and the one who was being told this seemed flustered as she denied that whoever she was being urged to ask out would say yes to someone like her.

He could feel Dean bristle beside him, and realizes that he is also overhearing the conversation. Castiel wonders if they are talking about Dean. Though he couldn't see the man, he was sure that he was handsome, and that people admired him. He honestly felt a little envious of those who could see him.

Suddenly, one of the girls comes up to them, and Castiel feels awkward as she begins to stammer, “Uhm, would you want to go out with me sometime?” Castiel waits for Dean's reaction, but then hears the girl go on to say, “You know, you have such pretty blue eyes. They're lovely.”

Castiel knew that he had blue eyes, people often complimented them. But he also had no idea what color what Dean's were. Perhaps they were also blue. He was feeling a bit unsure now that he thought perhaps the girl _was_ directing him.

Finally Dean spoke, though the words that came out of his mouth weren't those he expected, and his voice sounded so strained when he spoke, “Wow, maybe you two could go out on a _blind_ date.” Dean let out a forced laugh at that joke.

Castiel froze, so she _was_ talking to him. He shifted uncomfortably now, feeling her eyes stare at him. He knew that she was now searching for an indication that he could see her, and knew the moment that she realized that yes, he was blind. “Oh, gosh. Uhm, that's fine, we could still go out on a date if you'd like. I'm sorry. . . I didn't realize. . .”

“It's fine. You don't need to worry about it.” Castiel spoke steadily, feeling hurt how immediately she had rejected him when she found out he was blind. He was surprised that she was kind enough to suggest they go out anyways, but he knew better. She was just being polite, it was obvious from her stammering and her high pitched voice. Still, it was the thought that counted.

The girl seems relieved on that note, and he could hear her walk back to her friends in a hurry.

The line continues to move. Castiel feels increasingly awkward when Dean doesn't say anything. Dean greets the cashier with a polite, “Hey, how's your day going.” Although Castiel hardly hears the man at the counter speak when he thinks about what was wrong now. He feels as if it was his fault. It must have been. He really was a burden, especially when going out. He had told Dean this, but Dean had seemed so excited to bring him along. Maybe he was regretting it now. He followed Dean solemnly out of the grocery store, the sound of their shopping cart rattling when they hit the asphalt of the parking lot.

Castiel waits in the passenger seat of the Impala as Dean puts all of the groceries away, and he feels more useless as he thinks about how he can't even help with that. He didn't want to flatten the bread or break the eggs though, that would be a hassle to clean up after.

Dean enters the car, and immediately says, “I can't believe that girl.” Castiel is caught off guard, as he was sure that Dean would be silent or be accusing him for his careless actions, “She asks you out for your looks and then she finds out you aren't perfect and immediately tries to get out of it. What a bitch. Don't even try defending her, that was a total bitchy response. Like what the fuck. So what you're blind? Does that mean you don't get a chance to live normally and go on dates and get to know people? I didn't think she'd react that badly, sheesh.”

Time seemed to freeze then. Dean was _defending_ Castiel. He wasn't angry with him. He was pissed at that girl. Dean cared about him, his feelings. Everything about him. Except he didn't mind his blindness. He accepted it without a beat. Sure he was a little weirded out about it at first, but he had never treated him any different regardless. Castiel didn't understand why, but it didn't seem to matter now. He was so relieved, so overwhelmed by this happiness that it seemed unimportant. Dean Winchester was a truly righteous man.

He can't help the wide smile that spreads across his face, but he does turn his head away from Dean to look out the window in order to hide the ridiculous smile. The car starts, and Dean is heard ranting to Castiel on the way home to put the food away. Castiel feels his face glowing with gratitude to this stupid man.

Castiel pulls the sweater over his head, and then steps out of the dressing room to show Dean how he looks. He hears a clicking sound of a camera, and frowns at Dean, “Really? You're going to take pictures of me when I try on clothes?” He accuses.

“No, only this one I swear!” Dean exclaims, giggling over the picture.

“What did you make me wear?” Castiel asks, walking up to Dean in an attempt to take his phone away. It's a useless attempt as a blind man though.

“Just an ugly Christmas sweater is all. Come on, I couldn't resist it Cas. Anyways, those khakis look great on you. Now let's get something on you that doesn't make me want to barf while I'm laughing.” Dean said, still laughing at how silly Castiel must have looked.

Castiel caught the next outfit that Dean threw at him. “Try those on.” Dean said, his voice pleased and happy. A nice change from the angry voice he had had throughout the car ride.

Castiel trudged back into the dressing room and closes the door behind him. He lays out the clothes that Dean has picked out for him to wear, and feels each clothing item individually. There's the soft fabric of what seemed to be a T-shirt, then the rough feeling of jeans. Dean had also tossed him a pair of sneakers along with them. Castiel sighed as he undressed and then pulled on all the new clothes Dean picked out for him. He then tugs on the sneakers and ties the laces so that they won't slip off his feet as he is walking. He feels like a kid again dressed so childishly, though he knows that most people dress in such a casual fashion.

He opens the door again, and stands before Dean to let him observe him and make his judgment call. “Well?” He asks Dean as he waits for him to make a comment.

“Well, you look great in jeans first off. You should wear them more often.” Dean announces, seeming to approve of the decision to get jeans, “Also, I didn't think red would look so good on you to be honest. I was just messing around, but you still look good.”

Castiel could feel his face heat up at all the compliments, and he turned his head so that he would be staring at his shoes if he could see them. He shuffled a little bit as he heard Dean rummage through the other clothes that he had picked out for him.

“Here,” Rather than tossing the next set of clothes to Castiel, Dean walks up to him to hand them to him gently. “Slacks, a button up dress shirt, a vest, and a tie. Also dress shoes. Go change.”

Castiel nodded, feeling odd with Dean this close up. He sneaks back into his dressing room, and takes a deep breath. He felt like he had more room now. He repeats the same procedure, then buttons up his dress shirt and ties his tie to the best of his ability in his condition. He wasn't very good at this. The last time he had gotten a proper lesson was years ago when Anna had shown him. He knew he didn't tie it right, but he felt like he was alright as long as he tried.

He presented himself to Dean, and immediately, he felt Dean walk up to him and tug on his tie. “You did it right, it's just backwards. Understandable.” He murmured lowly. Castiel didn't know what to do with himself as Dean redid his tie. He was so close. Though Castiel strangely didn't seem to mind Dean being so close to him, he felt a different feeling about it. He could feel his heart flutter in his chest, as if he was anxious and awaiting for something to happen.

“There.” Dean said, sounding proud of himself as he ever so slowly smoothed his hand over the silk tie. He took a step back, allowing Castiel to breathe without worrying about bothering Dean. “Wow, that's a pretty good look for you too. If we got some glasses it would really complete the outfit. I'm gonna assume you can rock any outfit.” He teased.

Castiel was handed another button up dress shirt and another pair of jeans. He dressed in them quickly, not bothering with shoes since Dean hadn't given him any. He came back out and waited for Dean to make his call.

Again, Dean got way too close, and he reached forward to Castiel's collar on his shirt. “Something doesn't seem right. . .” He murmured, then clicked his tongue as he figured out what it was, and he started to unbutton the top of his shirt. Castiel could practically feel his heart leap out of his chest at this, “Here, you don't need to button them all. Just leave a few of the top ones unbuttoned. Trust me . . . the ladies love it.”

It almost seemed like Dean was implying it wasn't just the ladies who loved this.

“You can be so uptight sometimes, and it really shows in the way you dress. You gotta learn how to be more casual and laid back. Gotta get that stick out of you ass.” Dean muttered.

A bit dazed by Dean's voice, Castiel informs Dean, “I can assure you that I do not have a stick up my ass.”

It's sudden as Dean laughs loudly at his statement. Castiel startles at the sudden sound that interrupts the flow of Dean's soothing voice. However, his laughter is just as healing as when he is speaking. It's a real laugh too. Not like the fake and forced laughter he had used earlier. It was genuine. Rough but gentle. Bouncing. His laughter calmed down Castiel's nerves.

“You're smart and sarcastic as hell, but I swear you are a little slow at moments too. Don't take everything I say literally Cas. Holy shit!” Dean puffs out in between bouts of laughter.

Castiel could feel his face flush in humiliation at his own stupidity. He was tempted to explain to Dean that he wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying, just more focused on keeping Dean's voice going. He didn't dare though, and just let Dean continue to laugh.

It was nice.

“Are you telling me,” Dean said quietly in the bustling atmosphere, “That most restaurants seriously don't have braille menus?”

Castiel nodded slowly, knowing that Dean would get emotional over this fact.

“I'm so pissed. I've never even thought about it. But come on, that's not fair. What if you're a blind person and just want to go out alone to eat? That's fucked up man. Holy crap I am so mad for you.”

Castiel smiled at Dean's support, though he said, “It's fine really. I never really went out to eat anyways. Rarely do.”

Dean was still mad when he muttered in attempt to have the last word, “It's still stupid.”

Castiel laughed at Dean's childlike behavior, and then asked, “Would you mind reading me the menu then? Since there are no braille menus.”

Dean grumbled something defiantly under his breath, but then agreed to read it for him right away. “Okay, so I don't have to read everything, I'll tell you the categories aloud then we can go from there. Uhm. Breakfast Foods. Sandwiches. Hamburgers. Pastas. Sea Foods. Steaks. Desserts. . .”

“What kind of hamburgers do they have here?” Castiel asked easily.

Dean seemed to be scanning over the menu. “Well they have normal hamburgers with cheese, tomatoes, onions, lettuce and a special sauce. Then they have the same thing but with two hamburgers. They also have turkey burgers and chicken burgers. All of that comes with french fries on the side.”

“Then I'll just have the regular hamburger with everything on it and fries as well. I haven't had a real hamburger in awhile.” Castiel told Dean, smiling as he continued to read the menu to search for something he would eat.

“Wanna get some with that?” Dean asked.

Castiel nodded. Other than the hamburger from Burger King, Castiel hadn't had a real hamburger since he was thirteen, before Gabriel had left. He was pretty excited to have an actual restaurant prepared hamburger. They were one of his favorite foods as a kid, and just the thought of eating one now made him even more hungry.

“Wow, Cas, it's just a hamburger man, calm down.” Dean laughed.

“I know, I just haven't had a real one in a long time.” He explained, a bit embarrassed. He wiped under his mouth and was relieved to find that he wasn't a drooling mess.

“How long is a long time?” Dean asked.

“Since I was thirteen, unless you count the Burger King's hamburger I had a few weeks ago.” Castiel told Dean, playing with the edge of his menu.

Dean whistled, “Holy shit man. Burger King hardly counts. Damn man, this place has some amazing burgers too, just you wait.” Dean said excitedly. “For this special occasion I'll also get a hamburger. A double hamburger sounds good. I'm starving.”

Dean ordered the food for them, the waitress had a very sweet and light voice, and seemed extremely kind as she took their order. Castiel waited along with Dean for the food to arrive, and while they were waiting, Dean spoke about a car that was being difficult at his job. He told Castiel about how he was sure that the poor thing was at it's last wheels, and that it seemed like no matter what they did, it was still broken down.

Castiel listened with interest, glad to have a peak in Dean's working life. He spoke about his coworkers briefly, and then told him about some regular customers. He felt like Dean was opening up more to him today than he had before.

The food arrived, and Dean casually said, “Well, fries everywhere except at ten o'clock.” The sound of Dean biting into his own hamburger was heard, then he made a godly moan as he tasted the burger, the noise stirred up something in Castiel's own stomach.

Castiel cautiously picked up his own hamburger, and bit into it slowly. His taste buds bounced around in his mouth, happy to be able to taste the wonderful juicy meat and soft buns of the scrumptious hamburger. The melted cheese, the crispy lettuce and watery tomatoes, the wonderful zest of the onions, and then the zang of the special sauce that had been put onto the hamburger. It was all so perfect. Castiel's eyes fluttered close as he sunk his teeth into the burger again, just to get another taste of the amazing food.

“Well shit Cas,” Dean said, snapping Castiel out of his ecstasy like trance, “If I had known you were going to react like that I would have treated you to this much sooner man.” He chuckled when Castiel's face heated up and he hid his face from him. “Ah, come on Cas, it's fine. Oh shit, I know what else we could get. Have you ever tried french fries dipped in a milkshake?”

Castiel scrunched his nose at the sound of that, “No I haven't. Is that a normal thing that most people eat?” He asked, a little baffled. People like Dean were strange, though he was awed at them as well.

“Well, not ordinary. It's a secret among us common people, your Highness.” Dean said with a chuckle. If Castiel had been reading about this, he knew that it would have said that Dean had also winked after he said that. He didn't doubt that he had.

With a small smile, Castiel murmured, “I wouldn't mind trying it then Dean.” He took another bite of his extraordinary hamburger as Dean called the waitress over and charmed her, then asked for two vanilla milkshakes.

Both Castiel and Dean finish off their burgers before the milkshakes are brought to them with a sweet voice that says, “Call me back if you need anything else sweethearts.”

When Dean replied back, “Of course hon,” Castiel felt a simmering feeling deep in his stomach, and felt it build inside him. But he shoved the alien feeling back down, and instead turned his attention to the milkshake that was at hand.

Dean got closer to him, leaning across the table, and he picked up a french fry and dips it in the milkshake. “Open your mouth.” He says in a low, rough voice. Castiel obeys immediately and opens it, and feels the french fry covered in milkshake enter his mouth. He chews on the food and hums as he thinks about the strange combination that swims across his taste buds.

“So?” Dean asks, his voice still so low that it had a melting affect on Castiel.

He nods and says, “I like it. It's a strange concept, but once you get past the strangeness of it, it's very good.”

He could feel Dean's breath on his face now, and he tries to back away from it subtly. He felt like Dean was almost suggesting something that he didn't understand. Maybe he was saying it with his eyes therefore Castiel couldn't understand it. . . Or maybe he was just a huge airhead.

“I'm glad.” Dean said, moving back to his own side of the table. Perhaps he had noticed that he had made Castiel uncomfortable, or maybe he hadn't known what he was doing at all and had no intentions other than to help Castiel out. He was a little unsure.

Castiel felt better with more room, and he smiled at Dean, dipping another fry in the milkshake and eating it. “Thanks for everything.” He said a bit quietly, truly humbled by everything Dean had done for him that day.

“It's not a problem Cas.” Dean replied easily.

A few days after the eventful day, and Dean is at work again. Castiel stays at the house, still trying to sort out his thoughts and his emotions. Not only in general, but specifically for Dean. It's strange. He's had friends before, given not in a long time, yet he never felt this strongly attached to them. He has always felt close to Gabriel, Anna, hell even Balthazar. However he's never felt this strongly about anyone before.

He wasn't sure what it was. Well, he knew actually, he just didn't dare acknowledge it. Dean was kind enough to accept him as an acquaintance, or a friend, or whatever it was that they were, but he knew that everyone, even Dean, had their limits to their kindness. He would never even consider it. Even if it wasn't because of Castiel himself, it might be because he didn't roll that way.

So Castiel immediately deemed anything of that sort of nature as impossible. A few days ago was just a comfort day from the previous day. It was a treat from Dean to Castiel. He didn't need to think anything of it, so he wasn't going to.

Castiel was sitting on the couch, in the middle of the afternoon, thinking about all this when the doorbell rang. Dean hadn't had any guests yet, but Castiel didn't know what else to do other than to get the door.

He got up, and left the door chain on as he opened it a slit (still weary of Lucifer and his friends) and asked timidly, “Hello?”

“Erm, yeah. Dean Winchester got some packages from Amazon. Sorry, I was just gonna drop this off and leave. Seeya later, have a good day.”

Once the man left, Castiel opened the door wider, and reached down on the ground for the packages. There were three packages. He gathered them all in his arms, and gently placed them beside the door in the house before shutting the door shut and locking it again.

He wondered what was in them, but he didn't dare open any of them. It was rude to do so after all, wasn't it? He merely traced his fingers over the packages before he went back to the family room to watch television. It wasn't long before he was stuck in his thoughts again. Wondering and pondering.

They went from Dean and to Gabriel. God, he hoped that he was alright. If anything had happened to him, it would be all Castiel's fault, he didn't know what he would do. How would he live with himself if Gabriel was hurt? Tortured? Hell, what if he was killed? He thought of all the horrendous possibilities that could happen to him, and shuddered as those thoughts stuck with him.

Then he wondered about Anna. He hadn't properly given her much thought since he had left Zachariah's. He had been so preoccupied with Gabriel and this new life that he hadn't bothered. He was still hurt by her, more so than Gabriel. She had chosen to leave him when he needed her the most. He still had no idea why either.

With Gabriel, even before getting his explanation, he had known why he had left and understood why he hadn't come back. But he had never promised that he would bring Castiel along with him. Anna had. She had given him so much hope, and though he knew it was false hope, it still stung when he was left behind. He had thought that if she failed at her plan, that at least they would get through everything together.

He wished that he could call her right now, talk to her. Tell her everything. About how cruel Lucifer and Michael were, even if she already knew. Tell her about how he had got Gabriel captured. He wanted to tell her all about Sam Winchester. Most of all, he wanted to speak to her about Dean. He knew that he would tell her about how amazing he was, and that she would tease him, and then he would mention Balthazar, and then they would laugh together.

But there was no way he could call her or get to her. He didn't have a clue as to where she disappeared to. He doubted that she had truly run away to Oregon after everything that happened. Besides, he couldn't just leave Dean. And he didn't trust himself alone yet despite his growing independence.

It seemed like no time at all had passed when Dean got home. He opened the door with a casual greeting before he saw the packages. Excited, he called Castiel over and exclaimed, “Dude, open them! They're for you. You didn't need to wait so long to see what were in them.”

Castiel was confused, but he stumbled over to the front door to open his packages. He was still drowning in his thoughts and had little energy. The first box had five braille books in them. They were all classics that kids in high school read, but never read himself. Fahrenheit 451. The Great Gatsby. To Kill A Mockingbird. Of Mice and Men. The Scarlet Letter.

He smiled widely as he ran his fingers along their spines, “Thank you so much Dean!” He cried out with joy, excited to have new books to read. Energy was coming back now at the enthusiasm he had with these gifts. The kindness of Dean Winchester was unbelievable.

“Go on, open the other two man.” Dean urged, laughing at Castiel's awe.

Castiel felt incredibly grateful to Dean, and he excitedly opened the next package, and found a strange hand held device in it. He turned towards Dean, tilting his head to the side as he quietly questioned what it was.

“Feel over the buttons.” Dean insisted.

Castiel searched over the surface, and indeed found buttons. Ones that he could understand, since there were raised bumps with braille on it.

“That's a braille labeling device. You can use it yourself if you'd like, or I can help out with it. I'll try to put everything in a categorical order. Should work well to help you around the house.” Dean explained, sounding happier than even Castiel felt. “Anyways, one more thing.”

Castiel felt like tearing up with how happy he was feeling right now. This was all too much. Nobody had given him such useful things before. He opened the next item slowly, and felt a flat rectangular object. It felt like an oversized phone. “No way.” He muttered.

“Turn it on.”

Castiel searched for the power button on the side of the device, and waited for it to turn on. He brushed his fingers over the screen, and was taken aback when he felt raised bumps on the screen, that said, “Welcome!” and then the rest of the text explained what kind of device this was and how it worked.

“It's. . . a Braille tablet.” He said in disbelief. “They have those?” He asked in awe.

“Yup. Looked it up because I was curious and found out they have braille phones, tablets, and all kinds of stuff. I'm not quite sure how they work but its pretty neat right?”

Shaking his head in astonishment, Castiel whispered, “It's amazing Dean. This is all too amazing for me. Thank you so much. I don't understand why. . . Why you would spend so much on all of this for me, but thank you.”

“Pssh, I had some money laying around and figured I could get you some shit. Not much to it. You deserve it Cas. Everything you've done, everything you've been through, you have earned it man. Seriously. Don't worry about it.” Dean said gently, scooting closer to Castiel.

Castiel was too overjoyed with all of this, “I don't understand why Dean. . .” he muttered.

“Because you're my friend Castiel. And you are so important, you just don't realize it. More important than anyone has been able to see. You've got a hell of a lot more than potential Castiel. You will go somewhere, and if this helps you on your way there, then it's all I can do.”

Castiel asked slowly, cautiously, “We're friends?”

Dean seemed thrown back a bit, “Well, yeah, I think so anyways. I hope we are otherwise that was awkward. Whoops.” He sounded nervous, almost vulnerable.

“Yes, we're friends.” Castiel muttered, trailing his fingers over the covers of his books with his left hand, and holding onto his tablet tightly with his right. “I just wasn't sure if we were or not. I thought maybe you have just been dealing with me since I can help you get Sam back.” He admitted.

“You thought that I might be using you?” Dean asked, not angry but a little surprised, “Well, considering everything, I guess that's not too shocking. I'm sorry Cas. But nawh, I wouldn't be using you. You have guided me through this whole thing, but I've got your back as much as you've got mine. I like you a lot man. You're a good friend, ya know? Dependable.”

Castiel nodded, then said, “Not so much dependable as reliable.”

Dean laughed, “Both. You're dependable and reliable Cas.”

He felt so overwhelmed by happiness, so joyous from the gifts Dean had given him, by the kindness this man had shown him, by the encouraging words he had nurtured Castiel with. He felt the feelings that he had shoved down deep within himself bubble to the top, and he couldn't hold back.

But he knew had to. Dean had just said they were friends. That alone was enough for Castiel. That was more than he could have hoped for. He had an amazing, considerate friend, who told stupid jokes and talked about cars and sex and women. A friend who hadn't mocked him or gotten angry with him when Castiel had spilled his guts to him. Someone that he could never see harm him purposely.

It was too much, but Castiel tried his best to keep it all distant. He knew that it was a hopeless attempt, but it would be worth it when he had Dean by his side as a friend, right?

Right.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title from "Fix You" by Coldplay. I'm actually going to be performing this song next Monday for an audition in my Theatre class.


	13. Careless Whisper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel trains for a fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of drug use for coping.
> 
> This is a cool chapter. I wrote this a few weeks ago when my internet was down so I used up all the data on my phone to research how guns really worked so I could give this all a better perspective through Castiel's blindness. This chapter is pretty mellow for the most part to be honest, which is something we all needed after the angst and then the fluff. Oh wait never mind some things do happen. Secrets are revealed. I did a thing that I was unsure about actually doing for a few months, but it's the only way I know how to keep this going, and I've already written the chapters with these things in it, so too bad. xD
> 
> Also, just wanted to speak from a personal viewpoint that has nothing to do with this fic at all. . . On Tuesday I went to this thing called Point Break (a life changing thing that you must go to if given the chance) and it made me realize that a lot of what my characters do or think like is how I think. I feel like I am projecting myself through them tbh. I sorta wish this was a high school AU so I could throw them into Point Break. Oh well. Sorry just, look it up if you are clueless, because it's amazing omfg. *rolls away*

When Castiel awakes the next day, he feels that it's too early for any decent human being to be awake. He hits the speak button on his alarm clock and discovers that it's only five in the morning. Why the hell had he awoken so early? He tries to get back to sleep, but soon finds that he is unable of such a difficult task.

Groggy as hell, Castiel walks out of his bedroom and into the family room. It's strange for Dean's home to be so quiet. Sure, he is often here alone when Dean goes out to work, however he always had thousands of thoughts already jammed in his mind, so it was hardly what you would quiet from his point of view. He realizes that he's never been awake before Dean. He was usually already up by the time Castiel woke up, usually cooking breakfast, or on lazier days, eating cereal.

Castiel shuffles into the kitchen, deciding that he's pretty hungry. He automatically assumes that he'll just have some cereal, since he could actually make that, but stops as he is taking the box out of the cupboards. He didn't want cereal. He didn't want to settle just because it was the only thing he knew how to make.

So that's how Castiel ended up in the kitchen with the stove burner turned on, with a frying pan resting upon the burner, and a bowl of mixed up eggs and milk in his hand. With his other hand, he had an oven mitt on, he steadily held onto the pan so that he knew where it was. He cautiously poured the eggs and milk into it and then immediately grabbed a spatula and started to mix them around.

More for himself, he was doing this for Dean. Dean cooked for him nearly every morning. He gave him wonderful gifts yesterday. And the day before that he had let him know that he was there for him, that he would always listen to him. Not to mention, that Dean was providing him with a home and support. It was all too much.

Dean had given him a lot these past few days, and Castiel felt the need to return the favor. He just prayed that he did alright at this. That he wouldn't end up giving Dean more trouble by burning the house down.

This was his first time cooking. He knew how the procedure was done by looking it up on his tablet. Upon looking this bit of information up, he searched “blind people cook” and got thousands of results on Google. He read them, learning the proper techniques and precautions that blind people had in order to cook anything. It surprised him in all honesty. It was wonderful and exciting to know that people like him cooked. And in many cases, not just cooked, but cleaned, worked, went to school, all things that normal people did every day. He was shocked, he had always been told that people like him couldn't do anything and therefore should be locked away for being worthless to the contributions of society. So this news made him hungry to learn more about how he could get around with daily tasks such as cooking.

He was still stirring the scrambled eggs. They had been liquid in the frying pan at first, but while cooking they became scattered and squishy. He was timing himself on how long he was cooking that way he didn't undercook or overcook.

When the timer on his tablet went off, Castiel turned off the burner, and moved the pan over to another burner that he hadn't been using. Nervously, he took out two plates and two forks and set them on the table as he waited for the eggs to cool down. Castiel went back to the eggs in the pan, and finally decided to suck it up and try a forkful of them. They were . . . good. They weren't excellent, like Dean's. He hadn't added anything to them, since he had no idea what spice was what. He didn't want to add too much oregano when he intended to put in parsley. But they were edible. They weren't undercooked, they weren't burned. Though they didn't have the small amounts of crisp that Dean had, they still were fine without it.

Excitement and pride swelled in Castiel's heart at his accomplishment. He quickly served the eggs on the plates, and felt anxiety when he heard Dean's bedroom door open. Castiel waited nervously, and was relieved when he heard Dean's footsteps enter the kitchen.

“What. . .” Dean started, seeming surprised. “Did you. . . Did you cook Cas?” He asked sheepishly, probably still shaking drowsiness out of his system.

Castiel smiled, “Yes, I did Dean.” He said, nervous and strangely shy, “I promise they're edible. Granted, they aren't nearly as marvelous as yours are. . .” He added uncertainly.

“No dude, that's fine. It's the thoughts that counts if anything. Besides, these look decent.” Dean said, scooting his chair out from the table with a squeak across the tiled floor. Castiel sat anxiously at his seat, not bothering to try another bite of his own eggs while he waited for Dean's criticism on his breakfast.

He made a noise, that sounded a lot like an _Mmh_. Then he said, after he had swallowed the food, “Dude, these are amazing. Especially given that I haven't actually labeled shit in the house, including cooking stuff. These are great Cas, thanks so much.” Dean complimented, praising Castiel in glory.

Shining with happiness, Castiel turned his head away, his face surely flushed with joy and pride. Dean liked them. A lot more than he had expected. Sure they weren't the best, but they were edible, and they were well cooked. Castiel had made Dean proud. He had done a good job at repaying Dean for his kindness with what little he could afford now.

“You ever cook eggs before?” Dean asked, still ravenously eating the scrambled eggs away with scrapes of his fork against his plate.

Castiel shook his head and humbly mumbled, “This is my first time cooking. . .”

Dean stopped eating all together at that, and Castiel could feel his eyes burn into him with that comment, “No way dude. That was your first time cooking? I mean, I kinda get it because of the blind thing, that makes sense. But what doesn't make sense is how rad these are given it's your _first_ time cooking this.”

“I simply looked up directions online.” Castiel argued timidly. He then added, more excited now, “Dean, many blind people cook. They are also able to clean, to decorate their home, dress up nicely, and blind women even know how to put on make up well. They are able to work at most ordinary jobs the same as everyone else.”

Dean was quiet, but he spoke soon with something soft that melted Castiel's heart a little bit, “That's nice Cas. Did you really not know all of that? I mean, I didn't know about the make up thing and the cooking thing, but I knew the working thing. . .” Dean said, then he thought about what he had said and added, “Not as an insult, I'm just really curious whether or not you knew all this.”

Castiel shook his head, honestly saying, “I didn't know any of this. My family didn't attempt to help me become independent at all. Other than Gabriel and Anna anyways. Anna tried to teach me how to clean and how to tie my own ties, but I never knew how much a blind person could be independent. Gabriel was trying to help me out before he was taken.”

Dean seemed to be pondering over this in thought, but he finally said, “I'm glad you're still trying, even without much guidance. Because damn, these eggs are good as hell man.”

“Do you think we will be able to label the spices today? Perhaps some of the boxed foods as well? I believe that would have made it much easier for me. I wanted to add spices into the food, though I didn't know what was what. Even when I smelled them, I was a bit lost since I don't know each spice independently.

Smacking his lips together with his mouth still full, Dean says, “Hell yeah we can Cas. I don't see a problem with that at all. Got the day off, since I got to use over time hours before the year ends. So we can make that our little project today.”

Castiel smiled excitedly with the idea of that. He would get to spend the entire day with Dean, labeling spices and foods throughout the house. The phone rang then, interrupting his fluffy thoughts with bitterness.

Just as Castiel stood up, Dean also stood up. “I'll get it Cas, it's cool. I'm sure it's just my coworkers asking for me to cover for them.” He said expectantly.

Castiel waited by the door in the family room as Dean picked up the phone. It was odd to hear one side of a conversation.

“Hello? . . . Wait, what? Who is this? . . . _Oh._ ” Dean's attitude spun an 180 now, “Well what do you want you douche? . . . Fuck you. . . Just fucking tell me it then . . . Look, I'm not gonna stand around here and listen to you bull- . . . No you know what, fuck you. Just tell me the damned street name already. . .” Here Dean is ruffling through papers and then scratches something onto a sheet of one, “Alright. Now go fuck yourself you lowlife abuser.” The sound of a phone being slammed back down came with the end of those words.

Dean is grumbling under his breath as he taps something on the end table where the phone rests. He seems angry now, his good mood from Castiel's breakfast completely forgotten. It was a bit of a disappointment, though Castiel knew that meant one thing.

“Who was that?” He asked hesitantly.

Dean sighed, and smacked whatever he was holding onto the surface of the end table even harder now, “Your douche brother. Well, one of them. Michael.”

Castiel had guessed accurately. “I see. He gave you the address of the place Lucifer are holding Gabriel and Sam captive then?” He asked.

Dean was quiet, and Castiel filled in this silence with a short nod from Dean after he muttered, “Y-Yeah. He gave us it alright. I'll give it to you too. In case I lose it or some shit.”

He got his slate and stylus, and held them up so that Dean knew that he had them and was ready to write. He focused as Dean gave him the street name and spelled it out, then the numbers, the city, the state, and the zip code. This place was all the way in Washington.

Finally he stood upright, and asked the question that has been burning in his mind ever since this whole ordeal had happened, “What are we going to do now that we have access to this information? What, are we going to break in there and just rescue them? You do realize that there will most likely be people guarding this building. We will need to fight, perhaps _kill_ them. Dean, I can't fight, I can't use a gun, I can hardly use a knife. And you doing all the work is dangerous. I don't believe you should be doing this all alone.”

Silence fills the room again. Dean must not have thought about any of this. What did he think would happen? They would go over there and kick ass? Despite Castiel's burden? Maybe he hadn't thought it through at all. At least, not realistically.

“I want to get them outta there as soon as I can. . .” Dean finally explained, “But you're right. We can't just waltz in there all fine and dandy and not expect something to happen. We gotta get you training.”

“Wait, what?” Castiel stammered out. He was so certain that Dean would tell him to stay here. That he was going on his own no matter what, or that he had a friend that could help him with the situation. These were the last words he expected to hear. But they made him so happy, even as they confused the hell out of him.

Dean seemed to be excited now, “Yeah yeah. I can teach you how to use a gun. See, my dad used to bring Sammy and I into a section of the woods and blindfolded us. He would tell us that one never knew what to expect in a real life combat, so that you should prepared for anything. That included combat when it was completely pitch black. He would make us shoot dummies, and we couldn't go home until we accurately shot at least five of them. It only took us a few weeks. It would probably be easier for you since you actually know _how_ to be blind. Half the time Sam and I were trying to grasp the ropes on balance and coordination. Anyways, thing is, shooting in the dark and shooting blind are a lot alike, I think. I mean, either way you can't see. And you'd probably get a hang on it a helluva' lot easier than either Sam or I.”

Castiel felt bewildered as he asked, “How did you know when to shoot and where at?”

“Well my dad made them move. He had these ropes hanging from the trees, and would pull them forward or back. Some were behind us and we had no idea so they would sneak up on us and we had to think on our feet. But yeah, he would pull them and their feet would drag across the grass or the leaves, and we would have to detect them by sound. Sometimes they were really slow, and other times they were way too fast. But we learned good.”

Castiel didn't even bother asking why Dean's father even taught Dean and Sam how to shoot at all, not to mention when it was dark. It seemed odd. But Dean didn't speak of his father often, so it was evident that there was some history there that he knew better than to poke at until Dean brought him up himself.

“Where would we even train? And get guns?” Castiel asked, seeing the training as an actual possibility and a good opportunity for him to learn how to defend himself.

“Well, I've got guns in here. Just a few in case there are any intruders. Coulda' used them on Lucifer's guys, I know. But they are kind of tucked away and hidden, and not loaded. I haven't been attacked in awhile so I didn't even think about it.” Dean said casually, though Castiel could hear the regret and shame in Dean's voice, and he just wanted to reach out to him and tell him that it wasn't his fault. But he continued speaking before Castiel had the chance to say anything, a habit Dean had when he spoke of hurtful things and let out a light of vulnerability, “Anyways, I think I know where we can head for training. You remember me mentioning my uncle right?”

Castiel nodded, surprised that Dean was talking about him now.

“Well, he lives way out in the country, really in the middle of nowhere. He's got a lot of space and has little things set up for training like my dad did. He's also got a great stash of guns and knives. Don't give me that look, he used to be a hunter for years.”

“Okay.” Castiel said, then he asked, “So we are going over there? Where does he even live?”

“Kansas. We'll have a road trip. Holy shit, haven't had any of those lately. Was gonna have a road trip last summer with Sam, but some things came up.” There was a tender piece of his voice there, but Dean spoke on hurriedly to cover it up, “We'll leave first thing tomorrow. It'll be a long drive, so get some sleep this time.” Dean said with a smile shining in his voice. “Also, you should probably pack some clothes that will last you a week at least. Dunno how long training will take, but it's best to be prepared.”

Being stuck in the Impala with Dean isn't all as irritable as Castiel had imagined. He didn't enjoy being stuck in one place for very long these days, so being cooped up in a cold car with an awkward silence hadn't appealed to Castiel. He never liked long drives, most likely because every experience he had had with them involved Zachariah. His expectations are overpowered by reality however, and the ride proves to be more enjoyable than he had imagined.

The car is still pretty cold, but Dean makes sure to crank the heater as much as he could in the old car, and shoves a blanket at Castiel from the backseat when he mentions it. And there is hardly room for silence, since Dean also blasts his classic rock playlist as loud as he could, drumming along to the tunes of Led Zeppelin, AC/DC, and Nirvana.

The small moments of silence that fill the void are surprisingly comfortable. The only expectation that is met is the fact that Castiel is sore from not moving for so long, so when they arrive at Bobby's, he's enthusiastic at the prospect of being able to stretch out his cramped limbs.

Dean laughs at Castiel as he stretches, and Castiel makes a face at Dean as he teases him. They walk up the uneven gravel driveway, Dean leading the way, and Castiel following the sound with his cane in hand. Castiel hears the creaking of wood, and is cautious as he uses the steps that lead to the porch.

He waits as Dean knocks on a screen door, and nervously wonders what Bobby would think of him. Obviously, this man was an important figure in Dean's life. He hardly spoke of him, though when he did, Castiel heard great admiration in his voice.

The door opens with a grunt, and a gruff old voice calls out curiously, “Dean? Is that you boy?” Castiel realizes that Dean must have picked up his slight Southern accent from Bobby, as he has a clear Southern drawl when he speaks.

“Yeah Bobby, it's me. My friend Cas is here too.”

There's the sound of rickety wheels over the threshold of the front door. Castiel isn't quite sure where to look, until Bobby speaks, “'Yer friend?” His voice is coming from the waist level of Castiel. The wheels added up to Bobby's 'height' must mean he was in a wheelchair then. “'Nice to meet ya Cas.”

“It's nice to meet you as well Bobby.” He said, attempting to look more directly at him, though he was sure that he wasn't doing a very good job at it.

Bobby made a thoughtful _hmmph_ sound, then asked without beating around the bush, “You blind boy?”

In all honesty, this surprised Castiel. Most people would just walk around the subject, and it was a nice change to just hear someone just plainly ask that question. “Yes, I am blind. Are you in a wheelchair? From the sounds of it, you are.”

Bobby laughed roughly at that, seeming amused by Castiel. He was simply asking. He could hear Dean laugh a little bit as well. “Yeah. I was put in one a few years ago when I got into a hunting accident. Real shame, huh boy? Would you rather be stuck in here or be blind?”

Castiel thought it over, “I'm not quite sure which I would prefer.” He admitted, “I would like to see the world, however there's no point if you can't get around with ease. How about you?”

“Huh, interesting perspective. But I guess I'd rather be blind. It's a literal pain in the ass to be stuck in here. At least if I were blind, I could walk.”

Dean was laughing at their conversation, and he finally interrupted, “Anyways Bobby, we didn't just come here to chit chat 'bout deep shit. I'm here to train Cas on how to use a gun. I'll tell you more about what's up if I can get a drink.”

“Teaching a blind man to shoot? I hear a new whacky thing every day. Besides, I bet you just came here for beer.” Bobby muttered grumpily, but he said, “Alright, come on in you two. Cas, watch your step, I've got books lying about all around the house. Might want to use your cane all throughout your stay. They'll be moved around frequently.”

Castiel appreciated the information, and already decided that he liked Dean's uncle. He followed after Bobby and Dean, cautious of the books that were, indeed, sprawled everywhere. They breezed through the first room, that he assumed was a living room, and into the kitchen. Right away, there was the sound of the fridge door opening, and a can being opened.

It must be Dean then. Castiel had noticed that Dean drank quite a bit at home, however he had always assumed it was just to relax. Right now, he could hear Dean chugging the beer down and then heard another can being opened soon after.

“Hey boy, slow down,” Bobby scolded, and Castiel was grateful for that, “You can tell me some of this without getting completely drunk off your rockers.”

There was the sound of Dean sighing, and Castiel was sure that he was gathering up the courage to bring it up. He wondered vaguely what habits Dean had when he was nervous and uncertain. It seemed that he was always longing to see since he met Dean. He had before as well, however with Dean he felt this need more strongly.

Finally Dean spoke, his first words striking importance in Castiel's mind, “Do ya remember the incident with Ruby and Lucifer? I guess Lucifer wanted Sam back, not quite sure why, but he was hunting him down. Castiel is Lucifer's brother, but he's nothin' like him. He was being used to get Sam back, but in the end he couldn't do it because Sam isn't the douche he was expecting. Anyways, Lucifer took it upon himself to capture Sammy and Castiel's other brother Gabriel, who isn't a complete ass. Long story short, we got information on where they might be being held, and Cas wants to be trained so he could help fight in case something happens and doesn't go our way.”

Bobby was quiet for a few moments before he finally let out a grunt and said, “Well shit boy. Why didn't you tell me about this before? How long has it been since Sam was kidnapped then?”

“About two weeks.” Castiel chipped in, more silent now, feeling the shame of this being _his_ fault dig into his mind even more with Bobby and Dean here.

He swore he could feel Dean look at him, and he felt like he was being told to shut his thoughts up. He wondered how he could possibly know that though, and disregarded it for something he had just made up in his own mind.

“Dean, you shoulda' told me sooner. Why didn't ya?” Bobby asked, sounding a little hurt, but he seemed to be trying to cover it up.

“I'm sorry Bobby. I was just so caught up in figuring out what to do about it and trying to get busy so I wouldn't think about it. I didn't mean to forget about telling you, it just kinda slipped my mind.” Dean explained. Castiel could tell that he felt guilty about it, and he looked over to the direction of his voice and gave him a look that told him to shut up, returning the favor if Dean had truly given him that same look.

“It's fine son. So I assume you two got stuff with ya, right?” Castiel nodded at this, and this seemed to satisfy Bobby, “Good. Go fetch your things, then we can have a little lesson on how to use a gun today.”

Both of them complied, and Castiel followed Dean outside to get their things from the car. Dean muttered to Castiel, “I can't believe you gave me that look, you asshole.”

Castiel acted innocently as he said, “I have no idea what you are referring to.”

Dean grumbled then he said, “I'm gonna let you know right now that I flipped the bird at you. 'Cuz you deserve it.”

“Didn't you give me the same look?” Castiel asked, half to know if he had and half to tease Dean.

“True, I did. 'Didn't think you'd notice. Kinda weird that you did though. Do you have a spidey sense thing or something?” Dean asked, heaving his own bags with a grunt.

Castiel shrugged, “Maybe I do. Guess you'll have to stick around to find out.” He said with a smirk. He was relieved that Dean had given him that knowing look, and that he had sensed it. Maybe he had just had a lucky guess, but it also meant that he and Dean might be getting closer.

He had never held a gun before, he had never needed to before. Castiel had read about them in books, understood the different types of guns, how they were shaped, and how they felt. But _actually_ holding in his hands was a frightening reality. This was the possibility of death that he held in his hands. He hoped dearly that he wouldn't have to use it. He didn't know how he would handle killing another human being, even if they were asking for it.

Bobby had given him a pistol, and then he had rolled away in order to speak to Dean softly. Castiel could easily eavesdrop on their conversation, however he found that his mind was drifting in his own river of thoughts anyways.

The cold metal of the gun, and the lightness of the weapon astounded him. It was such a simple thing. He felt around the object, and found the safety, not daring to push it. He found the trigger, but simply brushed his fingers across it. There was the opening of the gun, of which he would have to aim at people only by sound. It would be a difficult task.

“You ready boy?” Bobby asked suddenly, snapping Castiel out of his thoughts.

He nodded solemnly, and waited for instruction. He didn't even attempt to pretend that he knew how to hold a gun properly. He didn't wish to make a fool of himself.

“First thing's first,” Dean murmured, “A gun wouldn't be of any use to you if you didn't know the mechanics of it. If you don't understand where the safety is, where the magazine holder is, where the barrel is, then you will end up endangering yourself and others around you.”

Dean took the gun from Castiel's hands, and led him to a worn down wooden table.

It was one of those tables where as soon as he brushed his hands upon the surface, he felt a tiny little splinter sink into his skin. Dean set the gun down on the table with a loud clang, and said to Castiel, “Explore. Figure out how it's built. Don't worry, it's unloaded. By the end of today though, you'll learn how to refill the magazine. I want you to take things out of it, figure out what's what, and then tell me what each part is once you put it back together.”

Castiel nodded, determined now. “Will you inform me what part is what when I am exploring then?” He was only a little familiar with a gun's terms, from what little he had read about them in some of his books. He wasn't certain how far he could get on his own.

“Only when you are figuring it out. After that, you're on your own.”

Castiel stood over the workbench, and searched for the gun with his hands, lightly tracing his fingers across the cold surface of the metal. He could do this. As he found different parts of the weapon,he asked Dean what their proper terms was. It was helpful and insightful. He first fumbled around with the magazine clip, and discovered that the gun was indeed unloaded. It made him feel better. Roaming his hands over the gun, Castiel found the safety, and switched it on. Castiel pulled the slide of the gun back, and a click sounded from it. Turning the safety off, he moved his hands to the trigger and pulled it. He was relieved to find that it pulled slowly at first, which meant it wasn't super sensitive and he wouldn't be able to accidentally pull it.

“Need any help?” Dean asked after ten minutes of Castiel messing around with the gun.

“No, I think I got it,” Castiel said, then motioned over the gun and asked, “Can I attempt to label the parts of the pistol?”

“I don't see why not,” Dean replied easily.

Castiel thought over the few terms he knew, and pointed at each individual part of the gun, labeling aloud for Dean to hear.

Dean gave Castiel a satisfied response, saying, “You got everything right. However I think that I should go more into detail with you about everything. Right here's the barrel, this one is pretty standard and straight forward. There have been a lot of guns with barrels that coil to speed up the bullet, by making it spin. This one is clear inside and is a straight shot. Down here, inside the frame of the gun is where the recoil springs are. Despite this being a pretty small gun, it's still going to have some recoil, and you gotta get used to that.”

“For the most part, you did a lot better than I had expected. Now I'm going to show you how to reload the gun. It's pretty simple when you are using a pistol.” Dean said, then put his hands over Castiel's, stirring sparks in his heart at the warm and sudden touch. “If you've emptied out a magazine, the slide will automatically slide back into place. So always be aware of the slide's position when you are shooting.” Dean led Castiel's hand to the small area under the trigger on the grip, “Feel this little button? That's the magazine release, when you press this, the magazine will drop out of the gun. With this gun, it'll be found on the left side. This model will require you to pull the empty magazine free. You understand all that so far?” Dean asked, his voice ghosting warmly along the back of Castiel's neck.

Castiel nodded, and paraphrased the instructions back to Dean, “When the magazine is empty the slide will lock back in place. The magazine release is a button on the grip by the trigger on the left side of the gun, and I will need to pull out the empty magazine myself.”

“Good,” Dean chuckled and then continued, “Anyways, I'll be giving you a few extra magazines, which you should put in your belt or something. You'll grab the fully loaded magazine by the front edge, which is more narrow than the back of it. You'll insert it by pressing the wider back of the magazine into the slot, and then push it up until you hear the click. To make sure that the magazine is securely in the gun, pull down on it, and if it stays, then you're good. If it falls out, try it again until it stays put. Then, you have to pull the slide back and you should be set.”

“Grab the loaded magazine by the slender front and insert it in by the larger back. Press up until I hear a click, and pull it down to make sure it will stay. Pull the slide back.” Castiel repeated steadily.

“Nice, you got this. Now let's try it in real time. First thing's first, turn the safety on. I want you to just practice loading and reloading your pistol so that you get the hang of it.” Dean explained coolly.

Castiel nodded and began to follow with the procedure that Dean had told him in great detail. Castiel fumbled with the magazine a few times, as he was doing this all by feel rather than by sight, however by the fifth time around, he was performing the actions without a thought or a mistake.

Dean stopped him with a whistle, “You're pretty quick Cas. That's enough for today though. Tomorrow I'll go over shooting with you. I'll let you know now that you don't need to worry about shooting me, since I'll try my best at staying with or behind you. I'll make sure to use my voice often as well, so then you can distinguish me from any others.”

Castiel was grateful for this bit of information, as this was one of the things he was worrying about. He would never forgive himself if he ever harmed Dean. He followed close behind Dean as he told him where to place the gun, and did so without question.

“Bobby went back into the house awhile ago by the way,” Dean informed Castiel, “We should head back too. I'm gonna take a long ass shower, I need it. You can stay up in your room or try to make conversation with Bobby, whatever works best for you man.”

“Alright.” Castiel simply said as he grabbed his cane and trailed after Dean. They stepped on the weak wooden panels of the porch and then walked into the house, the mixed smell of old books and beer drifting to Castiel as he breathed in the air.

Dean went straight upstairs to take a shower, leaving Castiel on his own with Bobby. He wasn't sure exactly what to make of the old man, though he knew that he did quite like him, as rough as his edges were.

In all honesty though, Castiel wanted to speak with him without Dean around. He had questions and he wasn't sure how he would go about asking them without mentioning the things that Dean didn't know about, like how Michael wanted him in order to return Sam and Gabriel to safety. So Castiel listened and heard Bobby moving about in what Castiel thought was his study from the brief tour he had been given of the house.

Castiel stands at the doorway to his study, and realizes after a few moments that Bobby hasn't seen him, otherwise he would have acknowledged him. Subtly, Castiel clears his throat to catch Bobby's attention.

He hears Bobby shift in his wheelchair, and hears a sigh from him, “What is it boy?” He asks, not directly bitter to Castiel, but just in general.

“I would like to speak to you privately. Dean is taking a shower, so I thought now may be the best time, if you don't mind that is.” Despite knowing that Bobby was Dean's friend, Castiel still held a little bit of fear of him. He often feared elders much more than people his age, and he blamed that on Zachariah. He made sure to show respect to most people, but especially his elders.

“I see. I don't mind kid. Come in. You can close the door and lock it behind ya'. In case Dean does come out early or somethin'.” Bobby suggests. Castiel agrees, and closes the door and clicks the lock into place after a few moments of searching for it. “Well, go on. We don't have all day.”

Right. Castiel began without a pause in between his thoughts, “I spoke to Michael, my other brother. He told me that he would help with releasing Sam and Gabriel, however he wanted something in return for it. He told me that if he gave me the address of their whereabouts, then I would have to give him Dean. When I asked him, he mentioned you and his father, then went on to tell me that there was something bigger going on that I can't see, pun intended. I would like you to tell me what you know regarding Dean and Sam's importance to my brothers, and what you or Dean's father would contribute to this scheme.”

Castiel grew worried when Bobby took his time to respond to him. Either Castiel wasn't going to like Bobby's response, or he had made him upset. He wasn't sure what he wanted more right now.

“You really don't know. Huh. Well it's a bit complicated son.” Bobby finally bit out, “Unless you _do_ know I 'spose. Look, don't you go freaking out on me, and don't you dare tell Dean about this. Not right now. Not until I tell him myself, or if you have no other choice.”

“What is it?” Castiel asked, frightened by Bobby's stone serious voice and his vague diction.

Bobby let out another rough sigh before he continued, “You always hear about the supernatural and superstitious tales right? And then you brush it off like it's a joke. Well, it's all as true as the fact that I'm in a wheelchair and you can't see. Ghosts, werewolves, vampires, demons, angels, all of it.”

Wait, that was not what he was expecting, at all. In fact, that was the last thing he was expecting. Castiel couldn't help himself when he let out a little nervous chuckle. Maybe Bobby was just pulling his leg, right? Because surely even Bobby knew that was ridiculous. But as he chuckled, he heard a deathly silence from Bobby, and as his voice drifted off with the awkward laugh, Castiel asked, entirely serious and completely terrified, “Wait, you're not kidding?”

“I wish I was Cas. I lost my wife to those monsters, and I lost the ability to move my legs to 'em too. I hunted them for a long ass time, so did John, Sam and Dean's dad. He was gon' to scar them for life, tell them everything he knew about all those things, but I talked him out of it. And when he was finally going to tell them . . . Well he turned into a drunk. An alcoholic. Everything he said was dismissed as him going mad on the drinks. Dean and Sam eventually realized that too. They don't know, and I pray that they never have to.

“Michael and Lucifer are the literal archangels. They aren't just named after them. For the most part, the entire Novak family is made up of angels, living on Earth, disguising themselves as humans. I dunno why, but they ain't all holy and charitable like people think they are. They're monsters. Michael is an archangel, Lucifer's the literal devil. Your brother Gabriel is also an archangel, and Raphael too. I'm not sure 'bout you, since you haven't shown any recollection of your life as an angel. The biggest hint though, is the fact that you're blind. Not fakin' it either, even an angel pretending to be blind would flick their eyes at some movement. If you were an angel, you woulda' healed your eyes by now.”

Castiel was stunned into silence. It was ridiculous to think of his abusive family as angels. Zachariah, Naomi, Michael, Lucifer, even Gabriel and Anna as well. Anna had supposedly named after the angel Anael. But Castiel had been named after an angel too. The angel of Thursday. There was no way he could possibly be an angel though. If Bobby was right about anything when it came to his family though, it was that most of them were monsters.

“So why would they want Dean and Sam?” Castiel asked, his voice trembling. Fear was beating inside of him as he thought of how these angels, these holy beings that worshiped God, and were in fact serving God, had treated him. How they had beat him down like a dog. How they had treated him his entire life. He felt angry at first, but was soon consumed by fear.

“They're weapons. Dean is Michael's sword. His vessel. And Sam is Lucifer's. They simply want to use them. If Lucifer has Sam, there is a possibility that he has been using him as a vessel already. The only hope we have is that Sam hasn't given Lucifer his consent. Demons can take whatever human they want, but it's harder for angels to do such a thing. Even if Lucifer is the devil, he's still a fallen angel who has to follow the same rules as other angels. If Sam hasn't told Lucifer yes to using his body as a vessel, then we will be able to rescue him easily. Unfortunately, Lucifer has probably used a means of torture to attempt to convince Sam to say yes. Even if he hasn't said yes, when we find him he'll probably be in pretty bad shape.”

Castiel turns his head upwards when he hears the shower stop running, and turns back to Bobby. “We should continue this at a later time. Though I'm not sure exactly what else I want to ask as of right now.”

“That's fine. You have many questions, you just need to sort through them and process all that you've been told.” Bobby said, “I'm sorry about everything Cas. You and Dean have just dug yourselves into a shit hole though, and it's not gonna be easy to climb your way out.”

“I know. Bobby, please don't tell Dean about how Michael offered to hand Sam and Gabriel back if he gave himself up to Dean. Especially knowing very well what could happen to him if he came forward, I don't want him to know. You know Dean better than I do, so you must know that Dean would do anything for his brother. I had to keep the offer from Dean, since I knew he would selflessly take it no matter what I said.”

Bobby gave a grunted agreement before he asked, “If that's the case, then how did you get the information you got Castiel?”

Castiel sighed, knowing that Bobby would ask that question next. “He told me that instead he would take me and make me a prisoner in order to keep me out of people's businesses anymore. I know that it's very likely that he will take Dean anyways, but I wasn't sure what to do. I had to say yes.”

“Well shit. Look we'll handle it and sort it out at a later time. For now, just go to your room and act like this never happened.” Bobby said, and just as he was done talking, they heard a knock at the door.

“Heya, Bobby, do ya know where Cas is? I checked his room but he wasn't in there. I don't want to find out he's did something and got himself into some trouble or something.” Dean's voice called through the wooden door.

“Uhm, I think he said he was going out in the back to get some air awhile ago.” Bobby lied through his teeth just as Castiel was going to say something.

“Ah, alright. I'll go catch him out there then I guess. Thanks Bobby. Make sure to get some sleep you old man.”

“Oh fuck you.” Bobby sneered.

They waited patiently as Dean's steps faded to the door out back. Castiel gave Bobby one more word of thanks before he headed upstairs swiftly, and went into his room. He wandered around it a bit before plopping himself onto his bed.

There was still a lot to take in from what Bobby had told him, but he was right, Castiel could hardly keep a grasp on his thoughts and his questions were not easy to catch and keep. He admittedly wasn't sure where to go from where he was now, and could only hope that a night's rest would pull him into the right direction.

A knock came at Castiel's door. “Come on in.” He announced.

As he had thought, Dean entered the room tentatively. “Hey, sorry. I was lookin' for ya and Bobby said you were outside getting some air. I guess you already came back in. We must've missed each other.”

Castiel nodded in agreement, not feeling particularly great about lying to Dean, though finding it necessary in this case. “It's alright. Was there anything you wished to speak to me about?”

He could feel the unease radiating off of Dean, and knew immediately that he wanted to talk to Castiel about something that has been bothering him, though was uncertain as to whether or not he should bring it up.

“It's alright Dean,” Castiel said softly, patting an area on the bed beside him.

Dean seemed to bristle at those words, and hesitated before walking over to Castiel. But in the end Castiel's comfort won as he planted his ass onto the bed, sitting very close to Castiel. It wasn't nearly as uncomfortable any more, though it was a bit strange still.

“Well I've just been thinking a lot is all.” Dean said slowly, dragging his words out slowly, “Cas, the reason that Lucifer even knows Sammy exists is because of me. Like I've said before, I'll blame my dad but I know deep down that I'm the cause for a lot of this.”

Castiel sensed that Dean was doing that thing where he blamed himself and felt guilty over situations he had no control over, but he allowed Dean to continue with a simple, “What do you mean?”

Dean shifted beside Castiel on the bed, allowing himself to become more comfortable. “Well I mean. . . A lot of shit went on around then. I don't think it would make sense unless I told ya, huh?” Castiel remained quiet as he paused, indicating that it was Dean's decision to tell him. He got an exasperated sigh in return, but Dean's voice continued, low and soft, “My dad was always obsessing over this murderer, the man who killed my mother. He would drag Sam and I along from motel to motel, trying to find him. Sometimes he would drop us off at Bobby's, and other times we were left on our own. When he finally found the guy, he killed him. He never told anyone this, but we all knew. After that, he couldn't stop. He kept tracking down criminals, murderers, thieves, rapists, all sorts of _monsters_. And then, he started drinking. He wanted to forget it all I suppose. I was in high school at the time, just a sophomore, and Sammy was in middle school. Everything was falling apart since our dad took to drinking. Bobby was on some weird mission, so I dropped out of school so that I could take of Sammy and me. I stayed loyal to Dad at first, but then he kept stealing my money, was going off the deep end. There was no saving him. So I packed our things, took Sammy with me, and just left.

“I was so busy working to keep our apartment and to pay for Sam's needs that I didn't notice that Sam was getting distant. I didn't notice he was hanging with the wrong crowd. I hardly noticed when a week passed by, how was I supposed to see that Sam had a twitch in his eye and that he would go out in the middle of the night? When I found out what was going on, I was furious. Not at him, but at myself. I wish I had just walked in on him and seen him doing it, but no, he came up to me, and asked me for help. Before that, I hadn't noticed how pale he was, how red his eyes were and how twitchy he was. He met a girl, Ruby, and she hooked him up on heroin. I guess she was using him the entire time, and dragged him into Lucifer's gang too. The night he asked me for help, was after he had gotten his ass beaten by some rival gang when he was coming home. Fuck Cas, the shape he was in. I mean, I hadn't even suspected anything was out of the normal. I had been so busy taking all the jobs I could and working overtime on all of them that I didn't see. . .”

Dean's voice rose, frustrated, “And now he's gone again. He was doing better. Before going into high school he had gone through this addiction therapy crap and got through it. He had to go to fucking rehab. He went into high school and shaped up. Then he graduated, with a GPA that was above and beyond. He's been going to Stanford for the last year, and he comes to visit me, and _this_ is what he gets in return? It's bullcrap. From the beginning it was my fault man. I hadn't noticed soon enough, and now it's because I had to be careless and just let him take a walk. Fuck.”

“Dean,” Castiel muttered gently, raising a hand to hold onto Dean's shoulder. It was firm and warm, strong and tender, “It's not your fault. No, I'm talking don't start. The fact of the matter is that you were trying your best to support both Sam and yourself, and there was no way that you could have known about Sam's addiction, especially if he was hiding it. Sam should have come to you sooner. It's not his fault either however, it's Ruby's and Lucifer's. They betrayed his trust, manipulate him, and used him. And what happened two weeks ago, neither of you had any control over that. . . Neither did I. Lucifer has been playing his cards well and caught you both off guard.”

Dean didn't seem satisfied with what Castiel had told him, but he made a small noise and then said, “Alright. I guess. I'm sorry for bothering you with all this shit. You should get some sleep. We've got more training to do tomorrow.”

Castiel nodded silently, before saying tenderly, “Goodnight Dean.”

“'Night Cas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title inspired by "Careless Whisper" by Seether.
> 
> I hoped you all loved this chapter. I'm so sorry about the next few chapters. . .


	14. Packaged To Stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas get ready to shoot assholes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO MANY TRIGGER WARNINGS: Violence, mentions of pedophilia and molestation.
> 
> Hi, so I am glad that I have written ahead for a few weeks time, because I can't write right now. Had a long ass crazy weekend, filled with odd supernatural shit, I kid you not, as well as some weird things happening concerning my girlfriend. A lot happened. I was over at my friend's house anyways so either way I wouldn't have gotten anything done. Somehow my $20 went down to $5 and some change too btw. Cries. 
> 
> Anyways, this chapter is just the beginning of many bad things happening. Next chapter is a HUGE trigger warning. Like, if you do not like non-con or creepy men do NOT read. I will leave a basic summary on the first notes of the chapter explaining what happened without the gruesome details so you aren't lost. (It will be better than this chapter's summary I promise).
> 
> Okay, now I am just gonna slink away, and try to stay awake during the day and fail horribly. Good luck me.

__

_Stones. They were pelting stones across his naked skin. “Stone the sinner! Stone the sinner! Stone the sinner!” It was undoubtedly Zachariah's voice shouting this. The stings from the small pebbles they threw at him from the bone crushing feeling from all the large rocks that were thrown on him. “Stone the sinner!”_

_He struggled to ask, to plead. “Why me?” Why were they stoning him? Why was he being treated in such a way? He hasn't sinned. He hasn't done anything wrong._ _He's been on his best behavior. He tries not to cause any trouble, tries not to draw attention to himself. And yet they are throwing the stones. Chanting. All the voices of all the people who hate him. Who have always hated him. He could even hear his mother's voice. Gabriel's. Anna's. Sam's. Even Dean's._

_There was a sudden electric feeling bursting from the people who were surrounding him, closing in on him. He heard the piercing noise that he was sure he was once familiar with long ago. The sound of beating wings, wind was created by the beats of their wings. Angels surrounded him, angry. Fierce. Stones start sinking into his skin when they were thrown at him. It was like his body was absorbing the sharp pieces of Earth. He screamed as the piercing buzzing noise grew stronger, blood flowed freely from his ears._

_“STONE THE SINNER! STONE THE SINNER! STONE THE SINNER!”_

“Cas! Hey wake up Cas!” It was Dean's voice, tugging him from the frightful chains of which the nightmare held him down with. He was being shaken by the shoulders. He must've been yelling aloud in his sleep. He was drenched in sweat despite the cold night. He was trembling.

“Hey are you alright Cas?” Dean asked as soon as he saw that Castiel was awake. He stopped shaking him now, and instead held Castiel up into a sitting position.

He couldn't breathe very well, but Castiel managed to wheeze out, “I'm . . .fine.” He felt his lungs aching for air, and his eyes were burning at the edges. He felt so ridiculous. He felt stupid and scared and vulnerable and he didn't like it. He felt raw.

There was comfort in the way that Dean laid his palm across his back and started to soothingly rub it, up and down, side to side, in circles. It helped. Dean knew what to do to ease him from the terrors of his dream. He hated that he felt so much more relaxed when Dean did this, he hated that he relied on this. He didn't want to be a burden to Dean, of all people. He remembered how Dean's voice had been haunting him in his dream. . . _Stone the sinner_.

“I'm sorry.” Dean whispered, “Nightmares are total crap. Used to have them all the time after my mom died. Then when we left John. It's definitely not the funnest thing to happen.”

“It's not your fault.” Castiel reminded Dean, then continued, “I guess there's just a lot going on and I am just stressed by it all. So much has changed in the past few weeks. I guess I am kind of uncertain as to what is going to happen. What we are going to do.” He was frightened, but he didn't want to straight out say something like that in front of Dean.

Dean was still rubbing small circles into Castiel's back, “I know Cas. Do you think you can get back to sleep or do you need to drink something or uhm . . . something?”

Castiel had recognized this side of Dean a few times before. He could become very nurturing and mothering at moments. It was so odd to see from him, as he was usually loud and arrogant. This was a softer side to Dean Winchester, and Castiel found himself admiring this Dean as much as the other. He nodded slowly and murmured, “I think I'm better. Thank you Dean.”

“It's no problem. Just get some rest and don't have another nightmare. Those suck ass.” Dean made sure that Castiel laid down and then slowly left the room, “Night. . . Again.”

“Goodnight . . . Again.”

Castiel managed to drift off, and was relieved when he didn't encounter any nightmares.

There was a scuffle on Castiel's right. He aimed his gun at it, listening for another half a second before pulling the trigger with his pointer finger, slow and steady. Castiel handled the recoil from the shot well, and quickly turned his attention to the small sounds that came from right in front of him. While he was focusing on what was right in front of him, he didn't hear the slow sounds of something dragging behind him stealthily until it was immediately behind him. Castiel whipped around and shot the dummy, square in the dumb face.

He could hear Bobby whistle while Dean was cheering. He felt pretty proud of himself on how his excellent his training was going. It had been a week since they came to Bobby's house, and a few days since his nightmare. He felt more in control now than he had a few days ago. Using a gun wasn't nearly as difficult as he had thought it would be. He just had to concentrate on listening intently, and try not to shoot someone he didn't want to shoot.

“Well damn Cas,” Dean chimed out, running up to Castiel and putting his hand on his shoulder, “Might I suggest that you got this. Like, you _seriously_ got this down.”

“Not so fast Dean,” Bobby grunted from the behind them, “We are going to do one more thing. Kind of a test. I want you and Cas to practice shooting those dummies together. Whether it be side by side or back to back, whatever formation works best for you all.”

Castiel supposed that was important. It was important that he didn't accidentally harm Dean when in an important battle. He agreed completely that they would need to make some sort of system and trust each other. Castiel already trusted Dean completely, but he was sure that the other was pretty reluctant to trust Castiel considering the circumstances.

“Alright, alright. I still think he really has this shit in the bag. But I get it, safety first. Wouldn't want him 'ta shoot me or something.” Dean sounded childish as he went back to get his own weapon. Castiel couldn't help but let out a chuckle at his behavior.

Dean came back with his own pistol, and handed Castiel a small knife in a leather sheathe, “Just in case they get too close. Just hide it in your pocket or belt, and be ready to take it out at any time. Could really save your life.”

The sheathe was simple, but Castiel could feel something carved into it. He didn't have time to figure out what it was since within moments, Bobby was already pulling the ropes that the dummies were hanging on.

The first one Castiel heard was on his left this time around. He aimed and took a moment before shooting, hearing the thud through the dummy when the bullet hit it and then a clink after that. It must have hit a rock after breezing through the dummy.

With Dean by his side, shooting as many as he could as well, it wasn't as hard as he expected. He could tell that Dean wanted to move more, to go behind Castiel or run out in front of him, but he held himself back so that he didn't endanger himself.

Castiel could hear something inching behind Dean, and he wondered if Dean was going to catch it. It was too close now though, and Castiel could tell that Dean was way too focused on what was in front of him to shift his attention on what was behind him. Castiel turned around and faced the dummy, raising his gun to it and shooting it. He could feel Dean jump beside him with how close the shot was next to his head.

“Holy fuck, Bobby you asshole!” Dean yelled, his voice a bit shaky, “Good ear Cas. I probably wouldn't have noticed that one.”

Castiel merely smiled slightly at Dean before he and Dean dragged both their attentions to the dummies that were rapidly coming from both behind them and in front of them. Castiel easily reloaded his gun's magazines now, and was completely into the training when Bobby finally interrupted them.

“I think that's enough today,” The old man said, rolling forward in his wheelchair, “You two make a good team.” Bobby paused before he said, “You boys got good chemistry.”

Dean stuttered out a snippy response while Castiel felt his face flush a little bit. He wasn't completely certain, but he was sure that Bobby had said that, well knowing what he was implying. Even though he denied it with a, “Not like that ya idjits!” Castiel thought that he had known that he was going to make them both dumbfounded.

“Anyways,” Bobby said when he got Dean to shut up, “I know you both wanna go rescuing your brothers as soon as ya' could, but I want to check up on the place Michael's sent you for myself first. I won't go there Dean, can it. I'm just going to do a little research on it. Given the messy records of my library or the internet, this can take awhile. So I am gonna send you both on a mission of some sorts.”

“Wait what?” Dean asked, a little stupefied. Castiel felt the same way.

“In Indiana there's a group of men who have been luring children to them and have kidnapped them. Now, given their backgrounds, we can assume that they've been sexually assaulting these kids. And I'm not talking about teenagers neither, I'm talking about three years olds up to twelve year olds.”

Castiel felt like puking at this bit of information, and he could feel Dean's anger beside him as well. “That's just- Fuck that's so fucked up. Fucking pedophiles.”

Bobby agreed with Dean, “The mission is to kill those sons of bitches. I figured you two wouldn't mind getting your hands dirty with _their_ blood. And if anyone found out about you two killing them, well, I think they'd let it pass considering.”

Castiel nodded in agreement. He turned his head over to Dean and asked, “What do you think Dean?” He could hear Bobby stop a snort, and Castiel tried to ignore it.

“Hell yeah I'm in.” Dean said enthusiastically, “We'll wring the necks of those creeps.” Dean reassured everyone, as if the fire in his voice wasn't enough to convince them.

“Good,” Bobby said, “You two leave tomorrow. I'll get you directions to the lead I got first thing.”

And that was that.

 

The drive to Indiana from Kansas took about twelve tireless hours. Not to mention all the stops Dean would have to make for gas or for some grub. When they finally reached Indiana, Dean finally gave in and they stopped at a motel to sleep at for the night. Castiel grabbed his few belongings that he had gathered from the guest room in Bobby's house, and dragged them behind him as he followed Dean clumsily with his cane before him.

Without a word, Dean grabbed one of Castiel's bag, and continued to walk. Like so many other countless times, he wondered what the expression on Dean's face looked like. He wondered what gestures he used as he walked away. He just kept wondering how Dean looked when he was calm, when he was happy, when he was sad, when he was frustrated.

Castiel had realized that he had it bad for Dean Winchester, but he didn't dare bring it up to him. As of right now, it wasn't Castiel's top priority. Dean's safety was though. Sam's and Gabriel's was too. Castiel felt that he was still limited, but that he could now protect them better. He didn't feel as useless in the long run, and it was a surprisingly strong feeling that he held. It seemed to glow within him.

They enter a building, where Dean asks for a room with two queen beds to a woman with a low and raspy voice. “You sure it ain't one queen son? We ain't judgin' here. So long as ya' pay us, we dun care.” She had a deep accent, that indicated that she might be from Missouri rather than Indiana. They had just crossed over the border after all.

Dean chuckled as Castiel felt his face heat up again, “No m'am. Thanks though. Two queens though please.”

The woman laughed harshly and Castiel could hear her mutter, “'Might wanna tell yer friend that yer not an item.” Dean didn't seem to hear her though, miraculously. Instead he patted Castiel on the shoulder and indicated for him to follow after him again.

They entered the motel room, which stank of musty air and stale fabrics. Immediately, Castiel could hear Dean fall back onto one of the beds, rusty squeaking from the springs of the mattress protesting the sudden weight. “Dibs!”

Castiel laughed and made his way to his own bed, inching around the rather cramped room to find it. He discarded his bags by the side of his bed on the floor. He sat down, much more gentle than Dean had been. It was run down and undoubtedly needed to be fixed up, but he was sure that the people whom owned the motel were trying their best with what they had.

“Man, I'm fucking tired. My eyes hurt. Like, I love driving, don't get me wrong, but there comes a point where it feels like your just watching paint dry. There's only so many interesting things to see in this part of the country, and I've probably seen it all.” Dean complained.

Castiel felt bad as he said, “I'm sorry Dean. If I could have driven I would have. . .” He said, feeling a bit guilty about not being able to help out more.

“Nawh, it's fine Cas. Even if you could drive, I wouldn't let you touch the steering wheel of my baby. She's too precious and I would never risk her, not even to the damn president. Hell, even Sam's only driven her once or twice.” Dean explained with a gruff laugh.

Castiel smiled, Dean was very overprotective. Not only to the people he held dear, but also to his Impala. It was a silly thing, but it comforted Castiel. Dean's devotion was strongly held.

“Anyways, we should get some sleep. Big day tomorrow. 'Gonna kill us some sickos.” Castiel could hear Dean shudder at the mention of the disgusting men they would be hunting down tomorrow. “People can be such monsters sometimes, I swear to God. It's disgusting, terrifying. It's only for that reason that I kind of understand why my Dad went off the tracks. He felt the need to hunt down these kinds of people all the time because of them.” Dean muttered, a certain sadness lacing his voice.

Frowning, Castiel agreed briefly, “It's understandable.” He wondered briefly if John had actually hunted real people at all, or if they had all just been supernatural beings. Who was it really who had murdered Dean's mother in the end?

Dean rolled over on the bed, shifting further away from Castiel's bed after a few moments. He must have decided that was the end of the conversation then. Castiel moved under the covers, only bothering to yank his shoes off, and then rested his head on the pillow.

He was just starting to drift off when he heard Dean's voice again, more small and vulnerable than he had ever heard it, “Hey Cas? You awake?”

“Yes, I am awake Dean.” He didn't mention that he had been falling asleep though.

“Do ya like me?”

Another unexpected string of words from someone. Castiel held his breath. He could very well be asking if Castiel liked him as a friend, which of course he did. But what if he was asking if he liked him _in that way_? “Uhm. . .” Castiel elegantly muttered.

“I feel like. . .” Dean voice sank away before swimming back up, “It's kind of stupid. When I was a kid, a lot of people would pay attention to me. Like a ton. 'Cuz I was a cute kid. Girls liked me a lot. Teachers thought I was the sweetest thing. When I got older though, it got worse. I'm a handsome guy, but a lot of times, people would just have sex with because of that. Nothing else. And that was fine when I didn't want any strings attached. But I had a few girlfriends, and I had fallen in love with 'em, and they broke up with me when they realized that I wasn't exactly rollin' in the dough and when they found out wasn't as badass as they thought. They even straight out told me that they had gotten with me 'cuz of my looks. I got harassed a lot for them too, by guys and girls.” Dean's voice had swayed away again, and Castiel could only imagine that he was recalling these incidents, “Anyways, I just. I'm sorta glad that you're blind. I know that's totally selfish and kinda fucked up, but it's true. If you could see me and were sticking around with me, I'd be afraid you just wanted to be around me because I'm a pretty boy or whatever. I'd probably just push you away if I thought that. You being blind kind of gives me comfort and reassurance that people might actually care about _who_ I am. Not just how hot I look or whatever.”

Castiel took this confession in silently, before he asked in a light whisper, “How do you look Dean? I wouldn't know any different, I just want to know. I mean, it's a good thing your hot or else I might leave you.” He joked, “I don't want to be seen hanging out with the wrong crowd.”

Dean let out a sudden bark of laughter, “Cas you're such an ass.” Then he seemed to be thinking over it, “Uhm. Well first off I've got green eyes. People never shut up about 'em. Sandy-ish brown hair. Freckles. Lots of people got a thing for freckles,” Dean said with an awkward chuckle, “I dunno man. I'm just a person I guess. Just with godly looks.” He teased.

Castiel smiled warmly, “How about me? How do I look?”

“I'm really bad at describing. Ugh. I suck at words.” Dean muttered, “Okay uhm. Blue eyes. Sure you've heard that though. They like, they _pop_. Kind of weird. Then dark brown hair, which honestly looks like you just had sex cuz it's so damn messy.” Castiel chuckled along with Dean, “You've got uhm. . . these bags under your eyes, which I usually find kind of unflattering on people, but it works for you. Strangely enough. Then yeah, pink lips. Chap as hell. You gotta drink more water.”

Castiel felt a soft smile form on his face, “Am I handsome?” He asked a bit nervously.

Dean allowed to let out a boom of laughter, “Maybe as handsome as I am Cas. Don't worry, you're fine looking, seriously. You can honest to God get anyone in bed if you tried.”

“If I weren't blind.” Castiel reminded Dean bitterly, making them both recall the incident in the grocery store with the girl.

Castiel could feel Dean get upset all over again, “Yeah, that was pretty fucked up. Kinda upset me to be honest. It shouldn't matter. I mean, even if you just wanted to get laid, your blindness wouldn't affect that. Most people have sex in the dark anyways.”

When he said it that way. . . “I'm not upset at her.” He informed Dean, “She did try to be polite about it and offered to still go out with me.”

“Yeah, I know but you could just _tell_ she regretted it. Even a dimwit like you noticed that right?” Dean asked, bitter and concerned.

Castiel nodded, though he realized it must be dark and instead said, “Yes. I still found it better than her reacting in disgust or anger.”

There was an easy silence between them as both men considered this.

“I guess,” Dean finally said, “You experience a lot of that? I mean. . . disgust?”

Castiel smiled sadly, “With my family, I endured that my entire life. To the point that I thought there was something wrong with me. I still think that sometimes. I know blindness is more common than one would think now, however all the incidents I've heard about it, people get used to it and it doesn't bother them as much later on in life.”

“Well, that's probably because they had people supporting them rather than crushing them every chance they got. You have been in a shitty situation most of your life where you were told over and over again that there was something wrong with you, so of course you're going to take some time to clear those words from your head. We just gotta start healing all that emotional stuff with some encouragement.” Dean explained.

It made a lot of sense, Castiel knew this, but it seemed to be a task that dawned itself as impossible. “It's easier said than done,” He said quietly.

“I know that.” Dean said, sounding a little hurt and a little angry, though Castiel didn't understand why, “You still gotta try though. You'll get there man.”

“Thank you Dean.”

Dean seemed to casually brush this off, “Yeah, you too. Seriously, for all the shit I've thrown at you. I know I've been sorta annoying but yeah, I just haven't been at my best these past few weeks and all. . .”

“I certainly haven't either.” Castiel insisted, “We've both have been under a lot of pressure. Obviously there is a lot of crap affecting both of us since Lucifer entered our lives.”

Dean made a humming noise and then laughed, “We're the crap buddies then, it's final. Anyways, go to sleep you piece of crap. You wouldn't want me to miss out on my beauty rest.”

“Right, because I wouldn't want to be seen around with an ugly man.” Castiel agreed.

They laughed, though they ended the conversation there. Castiel felt much better about everything between Dean and himself. He was sure how much the other thought of him, but he could at least sense affection in his voice. His voice was so warm and so deep. Castiel fell asleep, listening to the sounds of Dean in the bed next to him, muttering to himself as he slept. He wrapped the voice around himself, feeling embraced by it. It was wonderful. Dean was wonderful.

The next morning, everything is different than the night from before. The comforts and the warmth is replaced with tenseness and bitterness. Not towards Castiel, but towards the men who had kidnapped the children, and had possibly molested, maybe even raped them. Castiel shudders again over the thought as he is eating a couple of cold strawberry poptarts that will sum up his breakfast. Now that Dean was well rested, he was more sharp and even more determined to beat the crap out of these people.

“I feel like shit,” Dean confided to Castiel, “I slept all nicely in bed while these kids could have been being _touched_ all night long. I feel like an asshole for staying at that motel now. We should have just gone straight to this place without stalling.”

“Dean,” Castiel said cautiously, “If we hadn't slept last night, we wouldn't have been at our best. We need to be alert and well rested. I know it sucks, but sleep is something the human body requires and we needed it after that long drive. Stop beating yourself up over this and make up for the time we have lost.”

He could hear Dean grumble nonsense, but he felt the car go faster and the anger subsided for now.

When the car finally slowed down, Dean said, “Wow. These guys really picked the best place for a kidnapping.” Castiel gave him a confused look, not quite sure what he meant, “An abandoned warehouse. Isn't that lovely? Damn, there isn't anyone around here for miles. Too convenient.”

Castiel frowned, and he could feel anxiety sinking in his stomach. He was no longer nervous about killing a human being, but he was worried for the children's safety, Dean's, and his own. Already, he felt a terrible aura rippling from this place. It made him want to puke his guts out on the side of the road. There was something not right here, that went beyond a bunch of monstrous men.

They stopped a little down the road from the abandoned warehouse, or so Dean told him as they exited the vehicle. Castiel abandoned his cane in the backseat, finding that he wouldn't be able to use it anyways, and that he would just have to tread more carefully. They went to the trunk of the car, where Dean grabbed his rifle, and handed Castiel his pistol. He also guarded them both with knives. Castiel felt over the sheathe again, and felt the clunky marks on it again. _S.W._ This must be Sam's knife then, Castiel realized. He clipped the sheathe with the knife in it onto his belt, and both Dean and Castiel stood there before they both decided, strangely at the exact same time, to get moving.

The terrifying vibe that Castiel had had of this place grew stronger the closer they got to the doors of the warehouse. He waited, holding his breath, and his gun up ready to fire, for Dean to open the doors. It might be smarter to enter the warehouse another way, but either way, they had decided chaos and confusion was the best way to go about this. If the men suspected that Castiel and Dean were here, then they might threaten to kill one of the kids. Maybe all of them. This way, they just went for instinct and tried to attack Dean and Castiel rather than think about the children. Hopefully, anyways.

The doors were slammed open, and as they had thought, instant chaos consumed the minds of the men who were in there. Immediately, Castiel got into his training mindset. He heard a sound to his right, and a voice of a man yelling at them. He aimed and pulled the trigger. Another to his right. Aim. Trigger. Shoot. They entered the warehouse steadily. It felt like a game of checkers, as they killed the men who charged at them, and made their way to the other side of the warehouse. Castiel followed Dean's lead, figuring that the children were either out of sight of at the back of the warehouse. Perhaps there were more rooms.

Castiel and Dean stayed side by side until someone grabbed Castiel from behind, and started to twist his fingers into his throat. Castiel knew that Dean hadn't noticed, he was too busy focusing on what was right in front of him. So he swiftly took out his knife, and plunged it behind him, straight into the skull of the man who had attacked him. The man gave out a horrific scream, and collapsed behind Castiel. Quickly, he yanked his knife out of what felt like the man's eyes socket, and swiped it on his shirt in a hurried attempt to clean it off. He felt that it was ironic that he had stabbed the man in the eye, and even felt bad about it before he realized where the hands he had wrapped his neck with had most likely been.

This continued for a little while more. Castiel stayed behind Dean, both of them back to back as they killed the men, whose numbers were trickling from dozens to a few. Castiel didn't understand why there were so many, and he was angered by it. All of them were disgusting.

When Dean killed off the last man, he let out a loud sigh. “Holy crap. That was a bloodfest if I ever saw one.”

“Shh.” Castiel said, focusing on listening intently. He could hear banging from the back of the warehouse. Whines and whimpers. Castiel quickly led Dean to the back of it, and asked, “Is there a door over here?”

“No. But yeah, I hear them too. You don't think it's the kids, do you?” Dean asked, then cursed the pedophiles one more time before he said, “There must be some loose panel or a switch or something. It's okay you guys! We'll get you out of here!” Dean yelled to the kids, trapped in the wall.

Castiel noticed that none of them were banging against the wall, and that after awhile their whimpers subsided. He found it frightening that they had quieted down. These were kids, they should be crying and screaming, not become utterly quiet as soon as they heard men's voices. “It's okay,” Castiel said, “We're here to help you. We killed the men that hurt you and want to help you. I know you won't trust us, but please try.”

They finally found a loose panel in the wall, and Dean tore it open as quickly as he could, falling backwards from it tearing open easily. When he stood back up, Castiel could hear him gasp. He could smell the dirty and salty smells of semen and sweat. It was disgusting, and all over again Castiel wanted to puke. He only hadn't so far because of the adrenaline pumping in his system.

He was more glad now than ever that he didn't have to see, if he saw these children he wouldn't know what to do. He could feel their fear alone, that alone was suffocating. The terrible aura from this place also remained, though it wasn't nearly as strong now as it had been before.

“It's okay,” He could hear Dean say gently, and heard him crouch so that he was at their height, “We won't hurt you. We're going to take you to the police, or the hospital, and they'll bring you back to your families.”

Castiel could hear one of the kids burst into tears suddenly, and he felt his heart being wrenched at the realization that the kid must be only about four years old. There were other kids though, and when Castiel asked in a whisper how many there were, Dean told him that were eleven kids. And that they did range from the ages three to maybe fourteen.

Just as they started helping the children out of their little prison in the wall, Castiel froze at the tingling feeling that something was _not_ right. He whirled around on his heels, and heard a sinister laugh, before he was hit in the temple with what felt like the butt of a gun. Drifting off into nothingness, the last things that Castiel heard were the screaming of the children, and another thud beside him, and a grunt from Dean.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title inspired by Blue Blind Eyes by ZZ Ward. She's a new, gorgeous singer I found when I was doing research on blindnes. Whoops. But she's one of my faves now! Works out well enough.
> 
> Swoons


	15. Bound and Breaking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Dean are caught by the men who had kidnapped the children. Castiel escapes by cutting his rope with glass, and manages to get Dean out as well. They free the children, and Dean gets upset when he cannot call the police because he has no service. Castiel tells him to drive the children in his car, though with all eleven in there, there is no way for Castiel to fit into the car. Castiel tells Dean to just make a second trip for him, and wins the argument that comes. Only minutes after being alone, someone appears behind Castiel and uses his emotions to control Castiel. He then seems to teleport them to some unknown place to Castiel, and rapes him. He is about to force Castiel to enjoy it, when he gets a phone call. The man leaves for about an hour, and Castiel is shocked to hear Dean's voice. With this power taking hold of him however, he is bound and is barely able to move or speak. With much effort he is able to call out to Dean. Dean frets, and the man comes back. Dean knows who this man is, Azazel. He uses his power on Dean the way that he had used it on Castiel, then makes Castiel assault him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO MANY TRIGGER WARNINGS: Violence, mentions of pedophilia, molestation, rape.
> 
> Huge summary for those who cannot stand the details of this stuff. The summary mentions everything but very vaguely.  
> I've had the weirdest few weeks of my life... So I have not written in awhie. After this I only have half of one chapter written up. Forgive me if I take a break you guys. I'm sorry but so much is going on rn and I just can't.
> 
> I really hope you all like this chapter, and that you haven't been scared away just yet. I promise I won't do anything too bad... Yet.

His head was pounding like crazy. Castiel dizzily turned his head and regretted it instantly. He was sitting up, leaning up against a metal beam, his hands were restricted around the other side of the beam, a rope tied around his wrists tightly. He remembered where he was when he heard the sound of children crying, and then heard Dean grunting in pain. There were heavy footsteps in front of them, then light ones skittering behind them. Castiel moaned out in pain, his head was aching badly from the hit to the head.

“My, my.” A thin and raspy voice hissed, “I see you have awaken. According to your friend, you must be Cas?” The man had leaned down to get closer to Castiel. He was too close. His breath stank like death, liquor, and ashes. Castiel twitched when the man gently brushed his cold, bony fingers across his cheek.

“Who the hell are you?” Castiel bit out, wondering if Dean was alright as he heard him murmuring something drowsily.

“A friend, certainly.” The man muttered, now getting on his knees between Castiel's legs. Castiel shuddered when he placed both his icy hands on both of his cheeks, moving his face this way and that. “I see. You're blind. What a shame. We could have fun in other ways though Cassie, don't you worry a bit.”

“Get the fuck away from him,” Dean slurred out sloppily from Castiel's left. Castiel felt relieved when the other was awake, and didn't feel as terrified as before, despite the fact that Dean was tied up too.

The man seemed to be amused by these words, and seemed to be mocking Dean as he started to trace his chilling hands down Castiel's face and to his neck. Castiel shuddered as the man started to unbutton his shirt slowly, taking his time with him. As if he knew that he had all the time in the world.

Castiel clenched his jaw and lifted it up, in a sense of pride, really disguising the utter shame that he felt within himself as this man touched him. He knew that Dean must be watching. He knew Dean well enough now that he knew that he wasn't disgusted by Castiel, but probably angry for him.

When the man had tugged the shirt away from his chest and stomach after unbuttoning it, he started to lick, bite, scrape his teeth across Castiel's skin. He twisted away from the man's mouth, but he held him still with an unexpected force of power.

Castiel could bear with this. But when he heard the tentative steps from the other man walking towards Dean, and heard Dean shout, “Fuck you guys! You goddamn pedos!” he couldn't just sit by and wait anymore. He was no longer going to be a prisoner, he was no longer going to be pushed around and abused. He decided right there and then was going to fight back no matter what.

Panic flooded Castiel's mind, as fear pumped through him, and adrenaline was set afire within him. His body, his mind, everything was lit with the energy, the sudden determination. He twisted his hands around behind him, searching for something, _anything_ , that could save them. That could save the children, Dean, and _himself_. At the very tip of his fingertips, he felt something cold. It was smooth, sharp, yet it didn't feel like metal. It couldn't have been a knife, it was too far up from the ground, as if jutting up from it. It might not be a weapon such as a knife, but it was sharp and it would work, that was all that mattered.

While the man began to suck on his left nipple, making disgustingly pleased noises as he did so, as Dean was yelling at the other man, and as the children whimpered from behind him, Castiel tried with all his might to reach for the object. He struggled to get a grasp on it, and for a second he thought that he had pushed it away, but it fell forward towards his hands, making it easier to get. When he finally had hold of it, he discovered that the object wasn't just a sharp piece of something that had been jutting up, but was a shard of glass. It was curved, and he realized that it must have been a piece of a bottle at some time.

He used it. He strained to cut the rope around his wrists with it, sloppily using the edges of the bottle to tear through it gradually. Castiel was well aware that he didn't have too much time. The man was getting too close to his stomach area, licking with his hot tongue all the way down there.

It was odd, but Castiel had the feeling that Dean knew what he was doing. He was being much louder than necessary, snapping at the man, and Castiel could hear some fighting, but not too much. Dean could probably get that guy off him for a decent time with his legs alone, however Castiel felt that he was holding himself back for Castiel.

The man had reached the zipper of his jeans just as Castiel had cut through the ropes completely. Adrenaline was in his favor. With swift movements, Castiel had moved suddenly, and plunged the man on top of him upward into the face, the glass piece working efficiently to stab through the man's cheek. The screams from him were horrendous. Castiel yanked the glass piece from his face and shoved him off, making his way to Dean.

The man on top of Dean had already gotten off and was charging for Castiel, tackling him to the ground and started to throw punches. They wrestled until Castiel managed to get the upper hand, and he nimbly used the glass as a weapon again, puncturing into the tender flesh of the man's thigh. He abandoned the piece of glass, knowing that he would be wasting time if he attempted to tug that out of the man's leg, when it had gone in as deep as it had.

“A knife, a few feet to your left!” Dean shouted at him, sounding breathless, almost as if he were in awe.

It was no surprise that as soon as Castiel grabbed the handle of the knife, that the man who had been assaulting him, yanked him onto the floor by tightly grasping his ankles, pulling Castiel back to him. He only knew it was him because he was groaning, “Come here you sweet thing, I'm not letting you go while I wither away.”

Castiel kicked his feet at this man, trying to crawl away from him. The man seemed to creep up onto him as he pulled Castiel away from Dean, now holding Castiel around the waist with an iron grip. Castiel twisted in the strong hold until he could feel the man breathing in his face, his hot breath foul enough to make him wonder whether or not his skin was rotting away at the very contact to it. He angrily reached up to the man, who was too close, too evil, and slashed his knife up, somewhere that either his face or neck would be. From the sudden sputtering of hot blood that gushed onto Castiel, he was certain that he had swiped his knife right across the man's throat, and had even punctured his jugular.

Castiel rolled away from the man before he collapsed onto him, and made his way to Dean, hurriedly feeling around him and careful to cut his rope with the knife, not wanting to harm him in any way at all. The other man was still cursing both Castiel and Dean over his thigh, wheezy and angry.

Castiel handed the knife to Dean without a word, knowing very well, despite not seeing Dean's face, that this man was his job. He didn't even wince as he heard the garbled screams for help from the man. Dean seemed to be taking his time with him. Castiel would have been terrified in any other circumstance. However, he knew that these men were both pedophiles, rapists, and nasty beings that had absolutely no humanity.

When Dean was done he led Castiel to the back of the warehouse once more. Dean was gripping his hand tightly with his own as he led Castiel, and it felt oddly comforting to Castiel. He felt sticky from the blood that had been splattered on his face and his shirt, barely clinging to him, was covered in it. When they got to the children, Dean let go of his hand with a twitch, and Castiel couldn't help but feel a little saddened by the loss of his contact.

“We're really taking you home this time,” Dean called out to the kids, “You saw the whole thing, I think that you know you can trust us.”

Castiel could hear the children pattering out of the walls of the warehouse very hesitantly, their feet bare. He wondered cautiously if they were naked, and he felt a nasty bile run to his throat as he thought about those very men harming these children.

“Thank you.” One of the kids whispered, their voice so small and soft, that at first Castiel didn't register it as an actual person speaking.

He nodded slowly, and then said gently, “I'd like for the bigger kids to watch after the smaller ones. I promise that we will bring you back to safety. Come on,” He said, stepping away from the children to begin to lead them to the front of the warehouse, side by side with Dean. He just wanted to get out of this horrible place, he felt like if he didn't get out of here soon enough, that he would end up on the floor throwing his guts to the dirtied ground. The only good thing was that horrendous aura had vanished now, and he could breathe a bit easier, though not by much.

One of the older girls admitted to him quietly, bitterness staining her voice, justifiably, “I'm glad they're all dead, but I wish that you had killed them slowly. Taken your time with them. People will say they weren't right in the heads, but oh no, they were perfectly fine. They were just twisted.”

It gave Castiel a pause, but he understood where her anger rightfully lay. He had felt the same way at many times with his family, however he couldn't imagine the feeling that this child, perhaps barely a teenager, was feeling. How deep her anger and scars ran. It must be so much worse.

“You know,” She continued after a few pauses, Castiel knew Dean was overhearing this too, “My little sister has down syndrome. She's all messed up in the head, but I could never, _never_ , see her doing this to anyone. So they weren't messed up in the head, just the soul. That's completely different.” She stopped speaking and her voice cracked, “Oh gosh, I miss Sara. I'll really be able to see her again?”

Castiel could hear Dean say, “Yeah, you'll see her again. We'll get you to your little sister and your family again, alright kid? That goes for the rest of you too.”

The kids seemed to suddenly realize that they were telling the truth once they stepped outside the warehouse and out into the stinging cold air of the Indiana air. Some of them cheered as others began to cry. Castiel walked closer to Dean and he asked, “Are you going to call the police to pick them up? I know it would be a messy process, but we need to get them to safety. . .”

Dean seemed a little more than frustrated, “I'm trying, but there's no goddamn service here. We're out in the middle of nowhere and I can't even make a fucking call to the police.” He muttered angrily.

One of the kids must have overheard, as he asked quietly, “Are we going to have to stay?”

“No,” Castiel immediately replied. “Okay. . .” He could figure this out. “I want the bigger kids to go into the car first, and squeeze in and make as much room as you can. Then I want the little ones to get onto their laps.”

“What are you doing?” Dean hissed, “There's no way they'll all be able to all fit into the Impala at once Cas.”

He nodded and explained, “You'll make a second trip. Squeeze as many of them as you can into your car and drive them to the nearest police station or hospital, then come and get me afterwards. I can wait here for you Dean.”

Dean was quiet before he hissed, “Wait, you're being serious Cas? There's no way I'm leaving you somewhere like this. Look, can't we just use the trunk too or something? Fuck, there are already eight in the backseat. There's three more left. . .”

“Dean!” Castiel snapped, dragging Dean's attention back to him, “Look, I'll be fine. If there was anyone else left sticking around, then they would have come out already. Just let the three sit in the passenger's seat. The trunk is much too hazardous anyways, with your weapons lying about the way they are.”

Castiel could tell that Dean was hesitating, and he scowled at the other as he did, “Oh come on. . .” Dean murmured, “Fine, I don't have a good feeling about this, but you're right, our first priority are these kids. You stay here then. I'll be back as soon as I can, alright?” Dean said, placing his steady hand onto Castiel's shoulder.

He felt much more comforted with that hand on his shoulder, and he leeched at the warmth and affection that was in the touch. “Alright Dean. Just make sure they'll be in good hands.” Castiel reminded Dean. He felt a strong connection to these children, though he couldn't place exactly what the reason was. It was too sad to think that it was because of how they were similarly treated as children. Castiel was never harmed sexually as a child of course, however just the fact that both he and these kids were hurt at all, physically, emotionally, so that they were twitchy and didn't trust easily. He was saddened by this thought.

Dean went into the driver's seat of the Impala, turning it on before saying out the open window, “Alright, please be careful Cas. I've got a bad feeling.”

“Of course Dean.” Castiel said, smiling faintly at the other man, before he heard him shout his goodbyes then drive off down the dusty road, dirt being sprawled up into the air by his wheels.

Castiel sighed. He had an itchy feeling under his skin, similar to the bad aura that he had had when they had first arrived here, except that this was more sudden, and felt more permanent. As if no matter what he did to try to defeat this feeling of evil this time, that it wouldn't matter. The feeling would stay there no matter what.

He shuddered, hoping that it would go away. It didn't of course, but Castiel attempted to ignore it. He was on his own, and truthfully he was weary to be alone. He felt more vulnerable without Dean by his side. And he was without a mission. He would just have to wait until Dean came back, and he knew that only then could he shake this feeling off.

Castiel had only been waiting for a few minutes when he heard a warm voice from a man comment from behind him suddenly, and he whipped around in panic. He hadn't heard anything, how was that even possible? “I see you've killed most of my men and took my toys away.” The man leered out with a hum.

Castiel immediately pulled the pistol that he had collected on his way out of the warehouse out, and pointed it at the man. Before he could pull the trigger however, the man said suddenly, “You feel fear seeping into your pores.” The adrenaline changed into fright. “The fear clamps down at you, and suddenly you cannot move.” The gun drops, and he falls to the ground as well.

“What the hell?” Castiel yells, frantic. He couldn't move a muscle, and he felt this terrifying power hold him down with its jaws. What the hell was this?

“It's alright boy,” The man says softly, ice in his voice, crouching down beside Castiel now. With a mere touch to his shoulder, everything around Castiel shifts and changes. He's no longer out in cold air of the outside world, lying in the dirt at this man's feet, but instead on the concrete of a small space, that smells of mold and mildew. The man's hand slipped through Castiel's hair as he said lightly, “It's alright my pet.”

Castiel struggled to move away from this man, to fight back, but the more he tried to move, the more his body ached. “Stop it, what are you doing to me!?” He asked, panic rising in his voice.

“The fear crawls up into your throat,” The man says easily, “There's a lump in your throat, that makes it so that you cannot speak. You cannot say a word, or even make a noise.”

No, no. He couldn't utter a word, not even a sound. It felt like the more he fought whatever power was being held over him, the more that it grew, seeming to shove his mind deeper into a foggy abyss as his body lay motionless.

Castiel was petrified. He didn't know what to do, _couldn't_ do anything, as the man started dragging Castiel's body across the cold ground. He felt extremely vulnerable, not being able to fight back, or even to yell at this monster to stop. He felt exposed, as the blood soaked shirt was torn off of his chest, and he knew that the man was watching him like he was a displayed treasure in a museum.

This wasn't right, this was dangerous. The fear expanded.

“I saw what you did to my boys,” The man whispered, sending chills up Castiel's spine with that soft voice of his, “You're a crafty one, aren't ya? Of all things, glass. And such accurate slices. All things considering at least.” Here, the man stopped to warmly brush the pad of his thumb across Castiel's eyelids, “You didn't fight too much until your _friend_ was being attacked, huh? Dean was it?”

His strength to move was more powerful now, but when he tried, his entire body would just violently quake with the effort. The man was laughing at him softly, coldness in his voice, “Don't try so hard Castiel,” He felt his heart race at the mention of his own name, trying all the more to move as the man set him out onto his back, “Just relax. It'll be okay. I'll take good care of you. If you relax, you'll be in a daze. You won't remember anything bad that happens.”

He was planning to hurt him. He was going rape him. Castiel shook more at this realization. For some reason he had the feeling that if he let the fear take him over, that he wouldn't wake up from the deep sleep that it would pull him under. That he would simply be a puppet stuck in a coma, merely listening to this man's words.

And how was he even controlling Castiel at all, anyways? He seemed to have narrated what Castiel was feeling, manipulating the emotions and amplifying them in order to control him. They always said, that emotions were stronger than either logic or reason. Castiel remembered what Bobby had told him about those supernatural beings, and how later he confided to him that many humans possessed strange abilities from those creatures, whether they were born with it or they had somehow gained the power through other means.

So Castiel fought, despite the obvious failures that this action had. He struggle against the hands. Not the man's hands. He was merely tugging the rest of his shirt off. The hands that had always haunted him. That held him down into a small ball as he was beat, that clung to him as a child when he had fallen, that dug into his lungs when he was having an anxiety attack. These same hands latched themselves onto Castiel as he was positioned neatly onto the ground to be spread out nicely for this man. They were here again, and that meant misery was to come to Castiel. It meant he had no control over this situation, that he could do nothing but wait until this was over.

His shirt was completely off, and as soon as it was, he heard the man discard it to the side, and then suddenly he was moving at a violent speed, as if he could wait no longer. He yanked Castiel's slacks off of his legs, Castiel could have sworn he heard a ripping sound when he tore them off. He felt completely defenseless, lying in front of the ravenous man in his mere underwear. He was shaking again, struggling to break out of whatever spell the man was using on him. He tried to drag himself out of the depths of fog that clouded his mind so heavily. He wanted to get away. He wanted to become free. He didn't want this. Castiel's trembling became uncontrollable as he fought the power, with all the strength that he had.

He twitched when he felt the man's warm finger over his lip, “Shh, Castiel.” A hand carded itself through his hair now, more gentle than he would have suspected, “It's alright. Just give up your thoughts to me. I know it's hard, but it's better that way. For the both of us.”

Everything hurt when Castiel fought, stupidly it was true. He nearly wanted to give into this monster's advice, to just stop. To stop thinking. It might not be that bad. It seemed better than the alternative. Yet, his mind was one of the only things he had always been able to conduct solely on his own in his entire life. Though he had always been tricked and hurt, he knew at least he had command over his thoughts.

So he trembled vigorously, and he was able to speak one broken word, feeling a sense of pride and shame mixed into one as he faintly yet firmly said it. “N-No.” He felt the man's hand in his hair stop very abruptly with that stupid, powerful word. Castiel's chest ached at speaking at all, the spell burning in his chest and searing it with it's acid. He had broken a small level of it.

“So be it.” The man sneered, his warm honeyed over voice completely icy, indifferent, “I tried.” He was no longer gentle. Panic and terror spread through the veins in his body, expanding themselves and taking ahold of Castiel's very nerves, putting everything in lock down. His body was still again as he felt the fear angrily drill into his body. The man didn't take long before he was ripping Castiel's underwear off, revealing his rather limp penis. He didn't bother touching that though, more focused on his own genitals, which Castiel was rather relieved about that. The last thing he wanted to do was to come because of this man.

There was no preparation at all, there was not an ounce compassion or consideration as the man angled Castiel to his liking, and thrust into his hole. If Castiel had the will to, he would have screamed, he sure as hell wanted to, but his throat was being squeezed by those hands. The pain was too much to bear. Castiel nearly gave into the power altogether because of the shock. But he remembered that he couldn't do that. He clawed his way back to the surface of his mind, and was relieved when he was shaking again. But it was hard to keep his head clear as the man drove into Castiel recklessly, shooting spasms of pain up his spine with each harsh movement forward.

It was by far the worst thing that Castiel had felt in the entirety of his life. Worse than any beatings he had had, worse than falling down the stairs. Those were all scars to be worn on the outside, and his skin had toughened after awhile. But _this_ was in the inside, not emotionally so, but physically. Castiel had never had sex, and as much as he reminded himself this was _not_ sex, that this was not how it felt, he still felt the anxiety tear up the walls of his mind as he thought irrationally that he never wanted to have sex. He never wanted to feel this vulnerable and broken ever again.

It didn't help at any that the man would lean into Castiel for rough kisses against his lips, biting his lower lip and muttering words without traces of thought behind them, “So tight. You're so good. Keep it up. Keep crying. It looks good on you. I'll make you sob even more, you pretty thing. You slut.” It went on and on.

He hadn't even realized that he had been crying, but when he thought about it, he could feel the hot pricking at the corners of his eyes, and felt the tears running down his cheeks and some of them trailing into his ears.

Castiel wanted to let out his sobs, now that he was aware of his tears. Especially when he felt this wretched man come inside him, the hot substance burning his raw asshole, most likely bleeding from the inexperienced force, though Castiel couldn't tell. His body was shaking badly when the man finally exited, and he shook off his penis over Castiel. “Maybe I should do the polite thing and attend to your needs as well.” The man said.

That couldn't happen. If it did, Castiel would never be able to forgive himself. He prayed that biology would stay quiet right now, wouldn't allow that man this pleasure and him this humiliation. No matter what, Castiel didn't want to come for this man. He didn't want to do that to himself.

It wasn't biology that saved him, but a chance of luck, perhaps the fates. Castiel heard a phone ringing very suddenly, and the man sighed, parting with Castiel to walk away and take the call. Castiel didn't care what he was muttering to the other end of the phone, he merely focused on overriding the pain, trying to move his body more than just shaking. It didn't work, the pain was inferring with his efforts. He held his breath and hoped that the phone call was long, but there was no such luck.

Instead the man came back, saying quickly, “I will have to take my leave for awhile, my pet. I am terribly sorry, but I promise I will return the favor when I get back.” He felt his eyes burning into him, before the man sighed and said, “Must I really refresh the spell? Alright. Terror pours itself into you heart, your lungs, your muscles. It reclaims you as its own, binding you so you cannot move, no matter how much you fight. It leeches off your strength, off of your voice, stealing it away in bits and pieces.”

It was even worse than before. Castiel felt like he was lying there completely frozen, hardly able to breathe and all his willpower soaked in by this power. All his energy taken by it's greedy claws, all of it being torn from him from within. The man muttered, “That's better. Now you're no longer shaking my little bird.” He dragged Castiel into a sitting position, pulling his knees up to his chest, and seemed to stand back to admire his work. “Very well. I'll be back as soon as I can Castiel.” With that, he was suddenly gone.

It was extremely difficult to not allow himself to drown under the power in his mind. Castiel would seem to be drifting off internally, until he would suddenly be alert and remember he had to keep himself in check. Then it would happen again and again. Repeating itself.

Time didn't seem to make sense either. Normally, Castiel was bad with time given he couldn't see where the sun was positioned, but this was worse. It felt like time was also manipulated, and Castiel wondered if the man could also control that. He feared that he could.

For the first time since Castiel had been found by that man, he found himself thinking of Dean. He must be worried sick, because that was something Castiel had learned that Dean did. It had taken Castiel much too long to realize that the man cared about his well-being. He hoped that the children were alright, that they were safe. He had mixed feelings about Dean. On one side, he hoped that Dean had gone to the warehouse and said, “Thank God.” When he didn't see Castiel standing there, waiting for him. And then on the other, he selfishly and desperately hoped that Dean was searching for him, that he was at least trying. That maybe Castiel was actually important to him now. But he hoped that Dean wouldn't find him, because he knew that man could come out of nowhere and hurt Dean, and Castiel couldn't live with himself if that man raped Dean.

Castiel's thoughts were drifting again, but they awoke with a start when he heard the creaking of wood over his head. Though Castiel had no idea where he was, he realized then that he must be underground, under a building. There was more creaking, and Castiel felt the fear latch itself to him again. The man was back. He was going to humiliate Castiel, he was going to hurt him again. Castiel never wanted to bolt out of there as badly as he wanted to then.

“ _Cas!?_ ” Wait. Was that. . .

It was. There was no way. Castiel made sure to clear his head again, and heard more clearly now, “Cas? You here buddy?” His breath hitched, and he knew that he would have to fight again, despite his exhaustion and aching.

He just had to say one word, he just had to gather enough power at his core to yell it. He had to fight. Castiel soaked in as much power as he could, and tried a few times. Softly, “D-Dea-Dean.” The pain was searing already. He had to be louder though. He had to plow through the harm. Taking a deep breath, he tried again, struggling through his way as he still spoke, though it was louder now, “D-Dean.” Again, he could do this. Dean was here. Dean would help him. He would be his strength.

“DEAN!” Castiel cried out, and he heard the steps over his head stop suddenly. He had done it, he'd gotten Dean's attention. The price for it was overwhelming however. His lungs were burning, and he wasn't allowed to breath more than a few quick breaths at a time, with each breath the boiling sensation would come again. His body was working against him, trying to shut down completely. But if his body shut down, his mind would and he was petrified of what would happen then.

He heard something creaking down the room a little bit, then heard steps on something wooden before he heard a cried out, “CAS!” And he heard running towards him. Before Dean said anything or even looked him over, his arms were around Castiel, holding onto him tightly, “Fuck man, scared the shit out of me. I was almost certain I wouldn't be able to find you.” His hands were so warm and comforting on his cold, bare skin. Castiel soaked in the warmth, still shaking and breathing hard and fast. He couldn't bring it in himself to speak anymore words.

It seemed that Dean finally looked at Castiel, and Castiel could feel the anger and sadness in the air like electricity. “Fuck.” Dean whispered, “Cas, who did this to you? I'm going to fucking hammer his brains out I swear to God.”

Castiel struggled to speak, but when he finally did, it was the faintest of whispers, “Please. Dean.” He wanted to say so much more, but couldn't in his state. Despite Dean being there, the spell was still in full effect.

“Cas, what's wrong?” Dean asked immediately, concern panicking his voice, “Okay, it's alright Cas. Come on, get up, we gotta leave alright?” He still didn't understand.

He couldn't find it in him to say anything else right now, so instead he shakily shook his head, his body was tense and rigid with the muscles contradicting themselves. It hurt so much, but if he didn't keep pulling through. . .

“What do you mean no?” Dean asked, fear hinting in his own voice, “Are you scared that he'll be back too soon?”

Well, he was, but that wasn't why he couldn't come with Dean, so he shook his head.

“Can you _not_ move?”

Castiel nodded.

“Like everything hurts? Or like you literally can't.”

Castiel wasn't sure how to respond to that one, as it wasn't a yes or no question.

Dean seemed to understand this immediately, and instead said, “Nod for everything hurts, shake your head for literally cannot move.”

He shook his head.

“What the hell.” Dean whispered. “Alright fine, that's fine. We can work with this. . .” Dean started putting his arms around Castiel, in an attempt to pick him up and carry him in his arms. But just as he was lifting him up, the dreadful feeling came back. It was of that man. Oh no. . . This is what Castiel had feared.

“Dean Winchester.” The man said with a pleasant voice. Castiel could feel Dean whip his head around, and his hold on Castiel tightened, though he had set Castiel down in the process.

“ _You're_ the bastard that did this to Cas?!” Dean shouted, his voice shaking, fury inflamed in his low, rough voice. Castiel was surprised to hear the danger and the raw power that leaked from Dean's voice. It reminded him of how Dean had sounded when he had gotten angry at Lucifer when Sam had been taken. Except this had a deeper cut it in it. Castiel felt touched by it.

Castiel sensed that there was something bigger going on here that he wasn't aware of. The room was too tense, and he could hear how heavily Dean was breathing. Castiel was still shaking, trying to move still, but could only sit as Dean held onto his shoulders, sitting on his left. Casually the man asked, “How's daddy, huh Dean?”

“Go fuck yourself!” Dean growled, “Why aren't you in hell!?”

Castiel felt completely lost in this situation. Clearly there was something going on here that he wasn't aware of. He wondered with worry exactly who this man was, and who he was to Dean. A chilled thought made him shiver. What if this man had done that to him, just to poke at Dean. . . It was a horrifyingly disgusting thought.

“Oh you're still holding that little grudge?” The man sneered, “Your mother is resting peacefully Dean, without you or Sam or _John_ being a burden on her mind. You should be ecstatic for her, and grateful to me.”

Wait. . .

“Even if I were grateful for that, I'll never forgive you for this _Azazel_.” Dean snapped back, his grip on Castiel's shoulders tightening as he spoke to this man, Azazel. Castiel wanted to move, to grab onto Dean's hand and comfort him, though perhaps it was better that he wasn't able to perform his instinct.

“I did your pal a favor Dean Winchester. He's going to be broken down very soon if you two stay on this path. I'm trying to numb that feeling before the time comes-”

“What!? By raping him!?”

Azazel sighed, Castiel could hear him creeping closer, “No, by taking his emotions away. I've been _trying_ at least, but he's very stubborn. It would be the best if he would simply give in. I'm trying to _help_ Dean.”

“Well fuck you,” Dean spat out, “Leave Cas the fuck alone. Go back to the hole you fucking came from, Hell.”

The man chuckled, making Castiel rigid and stiff, his shaking stopping momentarily. He didn't like the sound of that. That kind of laugh meant that this man was going to do what he wanted regardless, even if that meant doing what he wasn't supposed to. “You feel afraid.” Oh no. Dean's hold on Castiel tightens, he could feel the fear pumping from his friend. “You suddenly cannot move, the fear clamping down on your muscles. You collapse.” Very suddenly, Dean falls back onto the ground beside Castiel.

“What the fu-” Dean shouts, panic weaving into his voice.

“This terror clamps down its teeth around your voice, dragging it down. You can no longer move nor speak.”

No, please, not this. Castiel couldn't bear this. It took a lot of energy but he shouted, “Stop it! Don't you dare hurt him!” He was shaking too much, he was afraid.

“Huh, maybe you're right Castiel. I'll spare him the pain. But I know someone who won't.” Castiel waited for someone to appear out of thin air, for something to happen, but he didn't hear anything else until Azazel laughed and started chanting, “The fear that is wrapped around your heart is replaced with the voids of loneliness.” Wait, he was changing the spell? “You are driven by the hunger of human contact. And you know he's lying right there, waiting for you. He doesn't do anything to prevent it, he says no objection. He must want you just as badly as you want him.” The man drawled out slowly.

Castiel was moving again, but he had no control over his body. It was like strings were attached to his limbs, moving him as he thought helplessly how to stop this. He felt his naked body, worn and torn, dirty with dried semen and blood, drag itself towards Dean. It positioned itself over Dean, he was on his hands on his knees as Dean lied underneath him, sprawled on his back. Castiel's knees were outside both of Dean's legs, his hands placed firmly on both sides of his head.

He was also free to speak, so he started pleading, his voice scratchy from not speaking for so long, it was shaking with the fear of harming Dean, this wonderful man who had always treated him well, who had never let him down or hurt him, “No, please, stop. I don't want to- Dean I can't control anything- _Please stop_.”

“You start speaking dirty, threatening slurs.” Azazel says, completely ignoring Castiel's begging, “You can't help it. Can't control the words that slip off your tongue like butter.”

While Castiel's thoughts are strained on the efforts of wondering how the hell he was going to get out of this, worrying and fretting, scared for his life, as he could never forgive himself if he- He knew he wasn't controlling his body but still just the fact that it was his body being used and he was still in his own mind- words alien to his tongue roll out of his mouth, “ _I need you Dean. I need your dirty hole-_ No Dean, I- I- _I'm going to tear you apart in two._ ”

Castiel was horrified to how similar he sounded to Azazel, and he felt fear rapidly pump itself throughout Castiel as he began to roam his hands over Dean's chest, still clad with a thin T-shirt, his leather jacket in the way. Castiel began to slip the jacket off of Dean, all while murmuring disgusting words to him. Dean was lying completely still, and Castiel fought off his movements to make sure he was still breathing. Much like Castiel had been, he was breathing short, quick breaths.

Through the flood of those vulgar slurs, Castiel managed to say, “Please, Dean, fight it, get away from me. I'm dan-dangerous.” His entire body was convulsing as he lifted Dean up into a sitting position to remove both his jacket and shirt off. “ _You're such a good boy, staying so still, so I can fuck you as much as I want to. I can go down on you forever like thi-_ N-No fuck, stop s-saying that pl- _I'm going to make it so that you get pleasure for your suffering-_ De-Dean please just don't hate m-me. I-I'm so sor-sorry.” His words were a broken string of stuttering when Castiel was actually speaking. Everything was a tremor, an earthquake throughout his body, flowing from the deepest pits of his insides, to his bones, and reaching the surface of his skin. His hands shook as he threw aside the articles of clothing, and began to feel up and down Dean's torso.

He needed to fight it. But he was already so bone weary from fighting before, that it was more difficult than it should have been. Castiel's body was still moving on its own as he began to litter Dean's chest with bites, licks, kisses. Biting harshly on his collar bone, teasing his nipples between his teeth. This wasn't how it was supposed to be though, this was never how he wanted anything. He didn't want to do this without thought, he didn't want to feel Dean trembling underneath his lips. He wanted Dean to be kissing back, to be just as involved and to be alright with this. He wanted his consent and wanted him happy. Not fucking the shaking body of Dean Winchester, or to kiss the sealed lips of his mouth.

It wasn't good.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title inspired by "Changes" by 3 Doors Down.
> 
> Also give me love you guys. Not only do I crave it, but I deserve it. <3


	16. Raised In Deep Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel is scarred. Things happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of rape, mentions of violence, mentions of child molestation and abuse.
> 
> Hey you guys. Gonna let you know right now this is the last chapter I have written up from like a month ago when I had that writing spree. There is a ton happening in my life right now so I don't have many opportunities to write these days. I only just started chapter 17 Monday in my chemistry class. The thing is I know what to do for the next five or so chapters, it's just actually writing it is so hard, because I'm constantly busy with school or work or club meetings... Not to mention I just went through a breakup because of outside conflicts and that that combined with some things with my friends & family and just this time of year, I have been pretty depressed, borderline suicidal.
> 
> Anyways, because of all this shit I may or may not upload chapter 17 next week and just take a break. Writing helps a lot with bad feelings but sometimes I just need to sit down and catch up with everything, or hell even start. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Next chapter will include fluffs and domestic happiness, and will finally give us more backstory on the angels and Castiel, is he an angel or not? So I hope you all enjoy.

He was getting closer and closer to his waist, trailing his mouth along the tufts of hair that lead down to his jeans. Both he and Dean were still shaking. As his hands began to pull down Dean's jeans, his movements stopped immediately, and his body was quavering more than ever.

            The entire time this had been happening, Castiel had kept an ear out on Azazel, who was laughing at their misery, and from the sounds of it, jacking off to the sight. Dean's breath hitched as he realized what Castiel must have found. In the faintest of whispers, Castiel could hear Dean breathlessly say, “Cas.” Plain and simple.

            Castiel betrayed the power that was tethered to his body, controlling him like a puppet. An aching fire spread within his veins as he reached down the right pocket of Dean's jeans, knowing all too well that Azazel was on their left. He had to be quick. He had to be precise.

            The cold metal bit along the palms of his hands, though that was the last thing he was thinking of right now. He traced the sounds of Azazel's moans and mocking laughter, and took a shaky breath as his grip tightened around the base of the weapon. His index finger became steady on the trigger, but as a result, the rest of his body grew into a blaze, tearing itself into pieces from the inside from the contradicting commands.

            And then swiftly, he pulled the gun out of Dean's pocket, aimed to the best of his worn down abilities, and fired. He knew he had killed Azazel on the spot, because suddenly all the shaking stopped, and Castiel collapsed onto his side while taking in a deep breath of fresh air, all the words shaken from him destroyed from the tip of his tongue. He felt Dean immediately shoot up and was all over Castiel within an instant.

            “Holy crap, Cas, are you alright? Fuck, you don't look good at all, it's okay though, I'm going to bring you home and you'll be alright.”

            Within moments Castiel was a sobbing mess. Every piece of real emotion, every word he had wanted to say while his body, his voice, was not his own to control came pouring out. Most of all though, were the apologies, the begging for forgiveness. “I am so sorry, please I didn't- I couldn't control anything. I almost- I almost- Oh my god you could've bee- He did it to me- He ra- I wanted to scream, and say no- Bu-But I coul- And I just wanted to move- But I was shakin- I had no control Dean- I never have an- I was just starting to get it all back- And I jus- I gave in-”

            Dean's hands had been shaking Castiel violently while he was saying these words, trying to snap Castiel out of it. But in the end, the strength that his hold around Castiel brought shut him up. Castiel fell limp against Dean as he hugged him, holding the broken man against his chest. Castiel couldn't even find the strength within himself to bring his arms up to hug him back, he just let them hang by his side.

            “Goddammit Cas. I know you had no control. It's okay though, 'cuz you fought it. You shot him before anything really happened. And I am so sorry that I didn't help you the same. Fuck. I never should have left you alone. But it's okay now, he's gone, I'm here. Alright? You're okay. You're gonna be alright. I swear, as long as I am here and- In control of my own mind- That I'll be by your side. Alright?” His voice was rougher than usual, but the words were so soft and drawled on with affection, that Castiel wondered for a moment if this was indeed really Dean. But by his touches, his scruffy jaw scraping against Castiel's bare shoulder, he knew it was him.

            Dean finally let go of him once Castiel wasn't sobbing nearly as badly, and his body was finally still. He still felt extremely weak, and everything hurt, but he didn't want to worry Dean. “Alright uhm,” Dean assessed, “Here.” Castiel felt Dean's leather jacket being draped onto his back, “Put this on until we can get back to the hotel and clean up. . .”

            Castiel wrapped the jacket that smelled comfortingly of Dean around himself tightly. It was sad to hear the guilt that was soaked into Dean's voice. Castiel knew that he was blaming himself for this, as Dean often made himself out to be the guilty person when he had had no control over the situation . . . _Oh_. Castiel understood what Dean had meant now.

            “Dean,” He said weakly, grabbing his attention, “You do know that you had absolutely no control over the situation, just as I had none, right? Azazel was playing us both and we couldn't do anything to prevent it. Even if you had taken out your gun when you two were talking, he would have stopped you immediately. . .”

            He could hear Dean sigh, but then he argued, “I know that, but I left you on your own Cas, I shouldn't have done that. I mean, that was a fucking stupid move.”

            “I think that it would have happened regardless of whether or not I had been there alone. Dean, you hadn't known what would have happened, and he knew who we were-”

            Dean huffed, standing near Castiel, “That's another thing. How the fuck did he do all of that? It makes absolutely no logical sense. You don't just go around saying something and then someone does it. That's all fictional superpower shit.”

            Castiel thought about what Bobby had said about not telling Dean about the supernatural world unless it was to save his life. But Dean had already experienced the powers of it, and he was going to be upset and confused, and he knew that there was a high risk of something like this happening again. This man had been apart of Dean's life since his mother was killed, and he had shown up again. Castiel knew that this had to do with Dean's life, and that he had to keep him as aware and safe as possible.

            “Dean,” He said lightly, drawing Dean closer, until he was sitting beside Castiel, “That man was some sort of supernatural being, or perhaps a human with supernatural powers. From what I was able to understand, he had the ability to twist our emotions and to make them grow. I believe that his voice might have had apart to play as well, and he was able to control us with our emotions.”

            Dean was silent, absorbing all of this in, “When you say supernatural beings, you mean like, like ghosts? Or uhm, vampires and all that stuff?”

            Castiel nodded, “Yes.”

            “Why do you know this?” Dean asked, and Castiel could tell that Dean was suddenly tense beside him, weary to be around him in case. . .

            “Because Bobby told me all of this. He's known this for years, and wanted to warn me I suppose.”

            Now Dean seemed upset, “Why would he have told you before me? Am I not trustworthy or something?”

            Castiel remained quiet for a few moments, not willing to admit the truth, as he was scared how Dean would react. He was uncertain as to what he was still in the first place. He didn't want Dean to abandon him in disgust, “He told me because I may come from supernatural origins. I suppose that along with all these ghosts, vampires, and werewolves being real, there are also Pagan and Greek gods and goddesses whom exist, along with the Jewish God, or now, the Biblical God. That also means that angels and demons exist. I suppose that my entire family is made up of angels, and that I might be too, though something may have happened to prevent me from remembering. . .”

            “You mean that angels are total abusive assholes, and that there are like two actual decent holy angels?” Dean asked, fear laced in his voice, “Oh my god, does that mean Lucifer is the actual Devil then? And he's got a hold of Sammy and Gabe? Wait, that also means Gabriel is an angel. What the actual shit. And you might be an angel too?”

            Castiel nodded, saying lightly, “From my understanding, yes. I'm not certain what I am, as Bobby said if I really were an angel, that whether or not I was aware or not, that I would not be blind. I suppose it's quite complicated.”

            Dean sounded like he was struggling to process all of this, but he didn't dwell on this for now as he turned his attention back to Castiel and asked, “Do you think you can stand up Cas? I wanna get out of here. This entire place gives me the creeps.”

            Uncertainly, Castiel attempted to get onto his own feet, though he immediately leaned on Dean afterwards, his legs were aching and wobbly. “Sorry,” He whispered as he leaned against Dean, but the other man didn't say a word as he kept Castiel balanced and began to walk across the room with Castiel clinging to his shoulder.

            They were silent as they climbed up the creaking steps of the stairs, creeping their way up to the top. Castiel was surprised to feel tiled floor beneath their feet once they passed a threshold, and he realized that he still had no idea where he had been kept. As a matter of fact, he had no idea how Dean had found him in the first place. So he asked, plain and simple, “Dean, how did you know where to find me?”

            “Oh.” Dean murmured, “Honestly, it's kinda stupid. This place was the closest abandoned place around the other place, so I figured that was as good as a start as ever. . .I had no clue you would actually be here. I actually doubted it a lot.”

            That was too lucky. “Considering the man literally transported me here, that's quite a coincidence. It almost makes one wonder. . .” He murmured his thoughts aloud.

            Dean sighed, “Yeah, I was thinkin' the same thing. But he's dead now, so don't worry over it all, alright? You killed him, we're getting away, and we'll go grab some good old fashioned fast food and head back to the motel for the night.” Castiel nodded along with the plan, which sounded as decent as anything else he could be offered as of right now.

            Castiel was still heavily leaning against Dean, there was an extreme pain that zapped through him when he took a step, most likely from the pain in his ass. . . He wondered how long that would last. Castiel hoped that the physical scars from this entire experience would disappear so then he wouldn't have to think about it with each step he took.

            They had stepped outside now. Castiel's bare feet felt pebbles jutting up from the cold ground, though he kept quiet with the pain from the sharp objects digging into the bottom of his feet. He kept close to Dean as they walked up to his vehicle.

            It was then that Castiel realized that he was scared. Not of Dean, no certainly not of Dean, but just of people in general. He was even more shaky and flinched more often than he had in a long time. He recalled this feeling from when he was still with Zachariah, where he would timidly keep his head down and startle at the slightest touches or sounds.

            While Dean was still supporting most of Castiel's weight, and he was opening the front door to the Impala, Castiel took a step back, standing up on his own with his weak legs. He could hear Dean shift and knew the exact moment when his eyes were searching for something that might be wrong with Castiel.

            “What's wrong?” Dean asked, cautiously, as if he were scared that if he spoke too abruptly that Castiel would flee like a scared deer. Castiel felt like he was about to sprint too, just based off plain instinct. When it came to fight or flight, he had always chosen the latter. It was either that or get as small as he could to prepare for the beatings.

            But he knew that he wasn't scared of Dean. . . So why was he so shaky and why was he slowly backing up from the man?

            Instead of running, he asked in a tiny voice, “Can I sit in the back. . . Please?” He could nearly feel sir roll off his tongue, but caught it before it could slip. He knew better than to run. Even if he managed to gather enough strength to get away from Dean. . . One) Where would he go? . . . Two) What would be the point?

            Dean seemed to hesitate, though Castiel could hear the understanding dripping from his voice, masking the hurt that came with it, “Of course Cas. Do you want a blanket? I think we still got the one that you used when we were driving to Bobby's. You look cold so. . .  Yeah.”

            Now that Dean mentioned it, Castiel was freezing. He nodded gratefully, and carefully climbed into the backseat of the Impala once Dean opened it up for him. He felt the wool blanket being handed to him, and took it gratefully.

            Dean started up the car, and let her sit there as it heated up. Dean made a startled noise, and Castiel was instantly alert, scared that something else was going to happen. He wasn't ready for anything in this condition.

            “What?” He asked frantically.

            “Oh uhm. . .” Dean muttered, “Nothing. Sorry, I just saw the blinds in the house move a little bit. It must've just been the wind. I think I'm just paranoid right now. . .”

            It was a freezing day, but Castiel remembered clearly that there was absolutely no air moving through the air that day, and he highly doubted that there would suddenly be enough to shift the blinds of the house. But he didn't want to think of the worst thing right now. He instead let himself curl up into a ball in the backseat of the Impala, wrapped up in the toasty wool blanket, and waited for the ride back to their motel to be over with.

Follow You Down

            Castiel wasn't particularly excited to step out of the warmth that he had leeched within the car, however he stepped out into the cold air, in nothing but Dean's jacket (a few sizes too big for him) and the wool blanket wrapped around him. Dean placed his hand on Castiel's shoulder in order to lead him back into the motel safely, and in his other hand he was carrying bags of fast food from Wendy's.

            The motel room wasn't nearly as warm as the car was, however, it was much better than being stuck outside. Castiel dragged his feet on the shaggy carpet of the motel's floors, fiddling with the edges of the blanket that he held tightly around himself.

            When Dean closed the door, Castiel immediately informed him, “I'm going to take a shower and then change.” He needed to get everything off of his body. He couldn't bear the dry evidence of his rape, couldn't bear the thought that he had let that be done to himself.

            Dean sounded worried, but he merely replied, “Alright. Do you need me to pick out a change of clothes?”

            “No.” Castiel said, well really he might have accidentally snapped it, before briefly walking to edge of his bed, where his clothes were  sprawled across the floor, and picking out anything comfortable that he could find. He quickly walked past Dean before he could say another word, and locked himself in the bathroom.

            Before he allowed himself to have his breakdown, Castiel made sure to turn the shower on to drown out whatever noise was about to come out of his mouth. He let the blanket fall to the floor, and tugged off the jacket. He wondered how terrible he must have looked in the fogged up mirror. He wondered how pale he was, how littered in blood and semen he was, how mussed up his hair was, how terrified and uncertain he looked.

            He stepped into the hot water of the shower, letting it knead into his burning muscles. His entire body ached from the war that had raged within it. His calves, arms, chest, his throat. His head was throbbing now as well, and nothing was to compare to the searing pain in between his legs. He felt terrible all around. Not just physically, but emotionally as well.

            He had lost all sense of control, he had absolutely no say in what was to happen. He was hardly able to think his own thoughts. It was a horrific ordeal for Castiel. He had no voice, he had no way to move his body. It was as if he had lost two more senses along with his sight.

            Somehow, Castiel didn't completely break down in the shower, as he focused in washing himself of the trespassing that had been done upon his body, and on massaging his aching muscles and bones gently. He quickly rinsed the suds of soap down the drain, grateful that he couldn't see the color of the water, and he hurried to shampoo, condition, and then washed all of that off as well. Once he was done, he turned off the water and stepped out to dry himself, still a little jittery, but overall, he felt better. Showers did that to him. They seemed to make a bad situation a little better. He had a cooler head now.

            He dressed himself slowly, taking his time as he pulled sweats up over his waist, and then he gratefully drowned himself in the T-shirt. He was surprised by how much he swam in it, and was a little wary when he realized that it smelled a lot like Dean.

            Sure enough, when Castiel stepped out of the bathroom, he could tell that Dean gave him a second look, and then heard the man chuckle, “Nice shirt Cas.”

            Castiel let a tentative smile out. There wasn't much he could do about it. The last thing he had wanted to do was walk out shirtless, as he was sure that his skin was covered in bruises and that the scars from that man's nails digging into his skin were still there. He didn't want to expose himself to Dean like that again, not because he didn't trust Dean (Although admittedly, he was quite vigilant right now) he just felt shameful of himself, and didn't want to let this show.

            Dean was strangely quiet now, and again, Castiel could feel his eyes burning into him again. He squirmed a little under the keen observation, not quite sure what to do with himself. Dean finally spoke after digging through a paper and plastic items, and said, “Here, eat up buddy. Ya know, just need your strength and all.”

            Castiel reached for the wrapped up hamburger, feeling the heat radiate from it. He knew he was hungry, he could feel his stomach growling at the smells of the hamburger, but he didn't feel much like eating. Despite this, he opened the hamburger and soaked his teeth into it, to please Dean if anything else.

            “Uhm, it's got bacon on it. It's pretty good stuff. I've got some fries and shit too if you want some.” Dean said, sounding more awkward and nervous than Castiel had ever heard him. As if the man  wasn't quite sure what to do with himself.

            Castiel nodded in thanks, not bothering to say anything. He didn't have much to say honestly, and he was afraid that if he did, that he would either end up in tears or would be yelling. It was best to keep quiet, as he had learned throughout his entire life.

            Dean didn't seem to get that message though, or maybe he was just talking because he was anxious, “So we'll stay here for a few days. I want you to recover and all. I'll probably kick Bobby's ass when we do get back. I don't know what he was thinking honestly, if he knows about all that magic supernatural stuff, then that means he must've known about this. He should have warned us, fucking bastard.”

            Dean had a point here. Bobby's sources was most likely from someone he knew that also specialized in hunting the supernatural. So why did he send Dean and Castiel on this little mission if he knew this? Why would he only tell Castiel about the truths hiding within this world, lie to Dean, and then not warn them about the dangers of this mission. It didn't seem like Bobby, as little as Castiel knew him, he knew that the man wouldn't have risked their lives in such a manner.

            There must be a bigger picture here.

            Castiel kept his thoughts to himself as Dean rambled on about what was happening on the television that he had switched on, as there was no point in concerning the man any further than he already has. He was really a lot of trouble to be dealt with, and he didn't want to hinder Dean anymore than he already has.

Follow You Down

            “Cas? Hey, you alright man?” Dean's voice called sluggishly from his bed, the sounds of the mattress squeaking and the blankets shifting were heard.

            Castiel was sitting in a ball on the ground near his bed, his knees pulled up to his chest, and his chin resting on top of them. His arms were wrapped tightly around his legs, and he had been deep in thought when Dean had called up to him, so he startled at the sound of his voice.

            When Castiel didn't respond, the metal bars from the bed creaked some more, and Dean's voice drifted to him again, “What? Did you have a nightmare?” There was a hint of fear there.

            A harsh answer, “No.”

            Dean paused before Castiel could hear him climbing off the bed, then slowly inch closer to Castiel as to not give him a fright. Before long, Dean was sitting close to Castiel, though he kept an appropriate distance between the two of them. “What's wrong Cas?”

            It was such a stupid question, that Castiel couldn't help but let out a small huff of laughter from how ridiculous it was. He nearly felt bad for it, but he was already speaking by the time that feeling seeped in, “Everything. I refuse to sleep.”

            “What do you mean?” Dean asked, completely ignoring the laugh.

            Castiel shrugged, and considered just leaving it at that. But he couldn't hold it in anymore. The same words that he had been thinking for hours now, as Dean slept, were out of his mouth within moments, “Sleeping is stupid Dean. You close yourself to the real world and leave yourself unguarded, at the same time every night. How stupid is that? And then, when you're actually asleep, you have no control over what happens to the dreams within your mind. And if you do have control, you have no idea what to do with the power. It's all just so absurd and ridiculous.”

            Dean seemed to be thinking on this for awhile, but he finally spoke, his voice leaking of warmth and safety, “Cas, it's just what we do. I guess it is kinda stupid, but there's nothing you can do about it. You're human, well as far as we know, and you've got to get some rest regardless of what you think about it.”

            Shaking his head, Castiel said, “No. I don't want to sleep. I'm not going to.” His voice was trembling as he said it, and he could tell that the tears wanted to flow. He was so pathetic. What was he getting so worked up over for anyways?

            There was a long sigh from Dean, before he asked jokingly, with a chuckle, “What do you want me to do Cas? Sleep with you to get you to sleep?”

            Castiel seriously considered it. He finally agreed, his voice quiet and soft, so much like a child's as he said, “Yes, I would very much like that.”

            Dean seemed surprised, and Castiel immediately regretted saying those words. But Dean didn't seem mad, just that . . . surprised. “Wait seriously? I mean like, actually sleeping, not like, bunny fucking or something.”

            He sounded so nervous, it was a little humorous. “No, no I know. I wasn't implying the latter either. . .”

            “You want me to sleep with you? Like cuddling or something? Cas, I don't do cuddling man. Or spooning.” Dean objected, then added, “Besides, in your condition, how the fuck are you so willing to trust me? I mean after everything. . .”

            “Because I trust you with my life Dean.” Castiel responded right away. “You've demonstrated that you can be trustworthy and you haven't failed me yet. So I trust you with this.” Castiel thought about it for a moment before he said in a smaller voice, “I need this Dean.”

            “Fuck,” Dean said, warmth emitting from his voice, all sweet and sloppy, “Well fine. I promise I won't let you down. . . Well with anything, not just this. Unless some supernatural shit is going on I guess. But yeah, as long as I am in my right mind and I have full control of myself, I swear I would never hurt you Cas.”

            Castiel nodded, smiling faintly, “I know Dean.” He had known this for a long time of course. It seemed silly that Dean was telling him what he already knew, but he appreciated it anyways. It was a big stepping stone for Dean to outright admit this. It was saying that he gave more of a fuck about Castiel than he was comfortable with, and Castiel could hear the fear that lay in his voice from that sudden realization.

            Dean tugged on the sleeve of Castiel's shirt, or rather, his own shirt, to help him up onto his feet. He followed Dean to his bed, and was the first to lie down in it. It was still warm from when Dean had been lying in it. He scooted onto one side of the bed, allowing Dean as much room as he could on the limited space of the queen sized bed.

            Dean crawled in after that, sighing as he lay down beside Castiel. He was on his back, and Castiel could tell that he wasn't planning on turning on either side any time soon, most likely from the horrific fears of spooning or cuddling. Castiel felt a burst of courage shoot through his thoughts, and without letting himself think too much about the action, he scooted closer to Dean, on his side so that he was facing him, and he curled up into a ball alongside Dean.

            The other man was tense at first, but Castiel could tell when he gave in, and eventually he started combing his fingers through Castiel's hair. The touch was so different from the touch of that monster's hand. Though Azazel had been soft, it had also been very cold and indifferent. This the opposite. Dean's hand through his hair was warm and firm, though the touch was also affectionate and caring. Not just an act of greed and hunger disguised thinly by the polite actions.

            Castiel relaxed next to Dean, his body soaking in the sweet feelings, his mind absorbing as much as he could remember for that night. This was something he wanted to cherish. This was something that he was adding to his list of good things. The list that was made up mostly of Dean now.

            Just as he was drifting off, he heard Dean softly singing. The singing swept in and out of Castiel's focus, though he only heard a few words that stuck with him.

            _. . . Remember to let her into your heart. Then you can start to make it better. . ._

Follow You Down

            The next morning, Castiel feels the need to take another shower. It doesn't seem to matter to his mind that he had just taken one last night, he still keeps thinking he's dirty. He's unclean. So he gets up before Dean does, and sneaks into the bathroom to take a shower.

            This time, the inevitable happens. Last night he must have been too in shock from the day's events that he kept thinking it must have all been some kind of dream. This morning, it all slammed on him at once as he realized that everything had been a deep and cutting reality. It sliced into his mind, into his heart, without an ounce of mercy. Everything falling upon his shoulders at once.

            The scalding water pierced into his skin, and he was already feeling the meltdown at the brim of of his mind. It came easily.

            Castiel sat down on the floor of the shower, feeling yesterday's events rain down onto him. He trembled as everything came back to him vividly. He was re-experiencing it all over again. When he had shot all those men, stabbed that one in the eye when he had ambushed Castiel from behind. He thought about those poor children, and how they were in safe hands now. Dean had gotten them to a hospital, and got away without too many questions. He only pointed them to the direction of the warehouse and then left without a word. He thought about how he and Dean had gotten captured. How they had tried to hurt Dean and that he had actually escaped and killed one of them. And he thought about Azazel and how had lathered Castiel with his slimy hands. . .

            That's where Castiel broke down. The hands. His voice, his control over his own body. All of it was gone. And then Dean had came and he had almost . . . To him.

            When Dean found Castiel in the bathroom, he was curled up on the floor of the shower, lying on his side, making himself as small as he could. The hot water had been burning in his back, though Castiel didn't care. He made no effort to get up despite Dean pulling him out of the shower, a frantic concerned tone to his voice. Castiel couldn't make out what he was saying though. It was all just nonsense, gibberish really.

            Castiel was shocked when he felt a swift burn in his cheek, and he realized belatedly that Dean had slapped him across the face in an attempt to bring him back. It seemed so odd. Castiel was back on the bed, sitting up with a towel wrapped around him. He was soaking wet, though that seemed to be the least of Dean's thoughts right now.

            For the first time, Castiel felt a real fear from being around Dean. The rational part of his brain reminded him that Dean was just trying to get Castiel to snap out of it, but the other part immediately went into instinct mode.

            Hitting = Anger.

            Anger = Abuse.

            Abuse = Hitting.

            It was a viscous cycle that Castiel was well familiar with. The fearful part of his brain overpowered the rational part of his brain, and Castiel went into self defense mode. Which was to get as far away from Dean as he possibly could, and to make himself appear as small as he could. He could only hope that Dean wouldn't be able to pry him open and beat him where it hurt most.

            Castiel had run from Dean, and curled up in a corner of the room, ditching the towel without thought as his initiative actions kicked in.

            But nothing happened. The air was stiff. Dean was silent. Castiel warily wondered if it was one of those silent, simmering angers. Those were the worst. It meant that the person didn't even want to waste their energy in speaking to him, in insulting him. That he was that below them.

            “Cas-” Dean's voice broke, it was quavering.

            The rational part of Castiel's mind chimed in, and overthrew the emotional side. It reminded him that Dean wasn't like that. That Dean was his friend. That in all honesty, Dean was a lot more than just a friend to Castiel. That Castiel had probably just hurt him. . . Again.

            Castiel reluctantly listened to this side, and uncurled from ball in the corner of the room. Shame sweltered within him. What was wrong with him? Why had he done that? Dean was going to hate him forever, wasn't he? How could he do this to him?

            Before anymore thoughts could pass through his mind however, Dean said quietly, “I'm sorry Cas. I wasn't thinking. I'm not angry at you. I was just trying to make you better. I didn't even think about- Shit. It's my fault, alright. I just want to make sure you're alright.”

            “I'm sorry.” Castiel whimpered, “I'm just being stupid. I didn't mean to- I hurt you. Again. I'm so sorry Dean.” He moved a few inches closer to Dean, though was still cautious in case the man turned on him. Zachariah used to pretend that he felt sorry for Castiel, that he wanted him to be alright. Then he would suddenly flip and punch him.

            “It's alright Cas,” Dean spoke gently, “You didn't do anything wrong. Okay?”

            “But you didn't do anything wrong either,” Castiel argued, his voice small. He felt like Dean hadn't done anything to wrong him, and yet he was taking all the blame.

            Dean sighed, and admitted, “I didn't mean to scare you intentionally, but it still happened, therefore it is my fault that I hurt you Cas.”

            Castiel asked, “What if I had raped you yesterday Dean? It wouldn't have been in my intentions, but I still would have done it, right? It would have been my fault regardless. . .”

            “Castiel,” Dean's voice was firm and steady. Castiel couldn't remember the last time he had used his full name, and he grew frightened again as he thought that he had upset Dean. He had, just in another way than he was expecting. “You weren't controlling your actions, you didn't put any thoughts into moving your body. It wouldn't have been your fault. Besides, it didn't happen, so why are you freaking out about _that_ so much rather than the fact that _you_ were raped. You were hurt. And I couldn't do anything about it. And I can't do anything right now. And I just feel like total crap that there's nothing I am able to do about everything that's going on.”

            Castiel was silent. He felt like his very existence was hurting Dean, and he wasn't sure how to handle any of this. He wanted to stop hurting his friend, however, he wasn't sure how he was able to do that in this situation, “How can I make you stop hurting?” He finally settled on asking, blunt.

            Dean seemed surprised by this question, and Castiel thought of all the horrible things that Dean was able to say. He could say that he needed alcohol. He needed sex, with Castiel perhaps. He might even say that he needed to tie Castiel up. . . If he said that though, Castiel would run. Or at least that's what he kept thinking as he sat there, waiting for an answer while trembling.

            “I just need you. . .” Dean said, then drifted off. Castiel dug his nails into his skin in fear, but was shocked to hear more words uttered out of Dean's mouth, “. . . I need you to get better Cas. I need you to focus on your own goddamned health. If you're better, then I'll stop hurting. I'd be happier if you're happy.”

            Castiel felt tears of relief stream down his face. This was Dean. This was Dean. This was Dean. Dean Winchester. He was not a monster. He was not an abuser. He was not a sexual predator. He was not an angel. He was not a demon. He was a human. He was 'macho'. He was caring. He was affectionate. This was Dean. Dean Winchester.

            Why had he thought that Dean would even think of anything like that in the first place? He was such a good man, it scared him sometimes. He felt uncertain around such a kind person, as he was not accustomed to how Dean treated him. He was often unsure as to how to act and how to respond to him.

            “Hey Cas. . . !” Dean said, his voice small and wavering, “Shit, did I say something stupid again? Look, I can just leave you alone if that's all you need. . .”

            Furiously, Castiel shook his head. The last thing he wanted was to be alone. To be so lost on his own was too much. Dean felt like a guide in his rather maze-like life. He'd dare to say Dean was someone he was able to _see_ without the ability of sight, that he made Castiel feel full of hope. He had to stop being so scared that Dean would betray him. If he hadn't so far, then why was he still constantly worrying about it? There was nothing to fear from this man.

            Dean seemed baffled as he waited there, and Castiel tried to choke out, “I-I'm sor-sorry. S-Sorry Dean. I-I'm jus-t so st-stup-id.” The use of the word stupid was underrated.

            “No you're not Cas.” The voice drifted softly to him, the source inching closer to him, “You're not stupid, and you don't need to be sorry. You didn't do anything. It's not your fault.”

            Castiel tried to stifle the pathetic noises that squeezed out of his lungs, “Ev-Even so, I-I'm still so-sorry. I keep doi-doing this. An-And I-”

            Dean was much closer now, his voice only a few feet away, though the distance between them was a relief, “Cas,” He said sternly, “Take a deep breath in through your nose. Then let it all out through your mouth.”

            Castiel followed the instructions repeatedly, and was able to breathe easier within a few minutes. He felt better, it felt like he had pushed out some of those negative feelings straining on him. He was glad that Dean had been there to talk him through what might have been another panic attack.

            He finally spoke without any stammering, though his voice was still weak, “I feel like I just keep breaking. That I'm just gonna get thrown off and I will keep falling. And I'm just waiting to hit the pavement. And it's stupid but I'm not sure how much more of this I can take. Then you're here and trying so hard for me. . . Dean you're too nice to me. I don't deserve any of what you have done for me. I don't understand why you are so kind to me.”

            Dean was silent, making Castiel's fear grow uneasily within his stomach. What this was a trick of some sort? “I guess I'll just have to follow you down then, huh?”

            “What?” Castiel asked, his voice hardly beyond the traces of a whisper.

            “I'll follow you down.” Dean repeated, laying a hand gingerly on Castiel's shoulder, “I mean, we've already made it this far. We just have to keep on going and deal with whatever shit we are dealt with buddy. And you can't do this alone. Hell, _I_ can't do this alone. So we gotta stick with it together, ya know?”

            Hesitantly, Castiel nodded. He thought that it was ridiculous for Dean to say such things, he thought it was risky, but that was how Dean was. Selflessly stupid and a risk-taker. Not to mention, Dean was stubborn, so he would do what he wanted regardless, it would just be easier on his heart if Castiel approved upon it. “Alright. . .” He agreed verbally.

            “Good.” Dean said, sounding relieved, “You’ll get through this Cas. I know it’s total crap and that it’s not right, and I know I could never hope to understand what you’ve been through, but what I do know is that if you’ve gotten this far on your own, that you can go a lot further, and that you will.”

            Castiel grabbed at these words Dean spoke, the ones that nearly made it seem like Dean thought highly of him. But he couldn’t look up to someone so beneath him, it was impossible. Either way, he soaked in the confidence that radiated from Dean, saving the feeling for when he would need it most.

            “Anyways, come on.” Dean urged, leaving Castiel whilst talking. “I’m starving, and you can’t be much better. We gotta get some food. I would order room service, but motels don’t really do that kind of thing, and if they ever do, well I’d fear the food to be honest. If you’re feeling up to it, we can go grab some cheap grub.” Castiel felt something tossed at him, and only belatedly realized that it was his towel, still damp from when he had been dragged out of the shower.

            Shame rushed over him again, though he didn’t let the thoughts plant themselves too deeply in his mind as he wrapped the towel around himself. Standing up, quivering a little bit, Castiel suddenly realized just how hungry he really was. He agreed to the plan, and was grateful when Dean tossed some clothes at him, glad that he didn’t need to frantically search for appropriate clothing himself.

            “I’ll just be outside the door.” Dean let him know, leaving the room of the motel swiftly. Castiel stood there for a minute before he began to get dressed.

            He had to get a grip on himself, if not for his own sanity, then for Dean’s. The man had never asked for this. This wasn’t fair to Dean. He was going to get better. He was going to recover. Castiel would become independent once more. . .

            For now however, he was fine with relying on Dean. He trusted this man after all. He was learning that it was easier to rely on someone when you trusted them.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Sum of Our Parts" by Mary Lambert. Great song! Singing it tomorrow for my theatre class' Coffee House!

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: The Braille inserted between each time skip says "Follow You Down". 
> 
> EDIT
> 
> NOTE: Title inspired by Follow You Down by Shinedown. Chapter Title is a lyric from the same song. 
> 
> (All chapters will most likely be lyrics or title from songs that relate to this story in some way. It might not then, but later it will I promise.)


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